


Different Colors

by Setaeru



Series: Heart Without a Beat 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Age Play, Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dark, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Feminization, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Underage Sex, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sub Dean, just a little
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setaeru/pseuds/Setaeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty-two year old Dean Winchester has decided to finally do something for himself, so he matches with a Dom named Castiel Novak on a local BDSM club's website.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title really has nothing to do with the story, it's just from a song I was listening to when I created the draft. (Walk The Moon - Different Colors, if you were curious.)
> 
> This story is going to be either sporadically or frequently updated - randomly updated, is more like it. There are some kinks and I will be labeling/warning at the end of each chapter (so please check the end notes if you wish to mildly spoil the chapter and/or you are worried something might offend/trigger you).
> 
> There are three parts to this, this is part one (obviously) and it's pretty much setting everything for the other two parts. It has a lot of weird conversations, alcohol abuse, and angst; but on the other hand, it also has fucking, kinks and fluff. Maybe it balances out, maybe it doesn't, we shall see.
> 
> Also, Jess and Sam don't happen til much later. So... yeah.
> 
> ... That is all.
> 
> _For now._
> 
> Do I seem kinky to you guys? Cuz I really fucking hope so. Lmao.
> 
> Unbetaed, and not proofread. I'd appreciate it if you guys pointed out the mistakes in the story but if you don't want to, that's cool too.

Dean bit his lip, bouncing his leg in the far booth of his favorite bar slash club. It was a discreet BDSM club, known only to a select few private patrons. The first floor was the normal bar, the second floor was a soundproof club, the basement floor was known as  _'The Cage'_. The basement was guarded by security twenty-four seven and led to a series of rooms and offices used by Doms and subs and select personnel.

Dean was impatiently waiting for his new Dom to arrive - his first in almost a year, wearing his best jeans, which was essentially just a pair of well-worn, hole free dark washed jeans, and dark green Henley to match his eyes. He had met the guy on the bar's private BDSM chat last week, and they had called and discussed things but they had not video chatted. The guy sounded like a friggin' God with his deep, gravelly voice - that never failed to send shivers down Dean's spine. A voice told a lot about someone, right? And since the guy had such a nice voice, that meant he would look like the God Dean was picturing him to be, right? Well, even if he didn't, Dean's had worse than a little less than average guy - which wasn't bad by any means.

He looked down at his hands, swallowing his familiar nerves at the thought of meeting another stranger that would use him for a short period of time and discard him when they found his...  _imperfections._ Dean sighed, Alistair had done that. Discarded him like the trash he was when he was tired of him. tired of abusing him and scarring him.

Dean swallowed thickly and suppressed a shudder, lifting his head and checking the area he could see out with a frown. Dean looked down at his lap again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and inspecting the time. Quarter to eight. He knew he shouldn't have come early, it just made him more edgy and doubtful.

Dean looked up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and sipping from his glass of water. No alcohol when you're about to scene. That was the first rule of many eccentric clubs; safe, sane and consensual - the basic BDSM rules - was always their priority.

Dean scratched his smooth cheek, really wishing he hadn't been ordered to sit with his back to the door.

Dean shifted in the wooden chair.

Dean bounced his leg.

Dean tapped his fingers together.

Dean picked at the inner seam of his pants.

Dean licked his lips.

"Dean?" He froze and tensed, immediately recognizing the voice and barely resisting the urge to shudder as a pair of hands appeared on his shoulders. Dean breathed and turned his head, eyes widening slightly as he took in the goddamn perfect specimen in front of him.

Deep, warm blue eyes that held a dark and controlled depth and was surrounded by lightly defined crows feet; short fluffy - adorable - brown hair and thin, slightly chapped pink lips surrounded by a scruffy jaw. The guy was wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and a deep blue tie, along with black slacks, and he had a tan trench coat draped over one arm.

"Uh, h-hi," he said nervously, swallowing."Castiel?" He added after a moment of hesitation.

Castiel smirked and nodded, letting go of his shoulders and walking around the table, sitting across from him and tossing his coat over the back of the chair next to him. "How are you?" Castiel asked politely, picking up the full glass of water and taking a sip from it.

"Uh," Dean cleared his throat. "Good, you?"

"I'm well," Castiel chuckled and set the glass down, his hand dropping to the clear space of table beside it and tapping ever slightly against the wooden surface. Dean looked down at his hands as he felt those wonderfully blue eyes scrutinize him, taking in all his features calmly. "Are you nervous, Dean?"

Briefly, Dean debated on lying but decided that wouldn't be the start of a good relationship, regardless of how short it would most likely be. "Kinda," he said, clenching his hands together. Castiel hummed, tapping his fingers a little louder against the table. It sounded unbearably loud to Dean, even though he could barely make it out through the music and chatter of other patrons.

"There's no need to be nervous," Castiel said after a moment. "Everything happening tonight is going to be at your pace. I refuse to push you into anything, regardless of the moment." He was talking about sex most likely. That was all they were here for, right? Castiel stood and picked up his jacket, holding his hand out to Dean. "Come."

Dean grabbed his coat as he stood and took the offered hand, allowing himself to be led through the club to the back. Castiel let go of his hand and pulled a small ID badge out of his pocket, showing it to the two, huge security standing in front of a pair of stairs leading down. The men stepped aside and let them pass.

They skipped down the steps and Castiel flashed the badge against a card reader, there was a tiny ding and the door opened. He tucked the card into his pocket and opened the door, gesturing Dean inside before following and making sure the door was securely shut. Castiel led him through the maze of offices, towards the huge playrooms and continued past towards the private playrooms. He unlocked door number seven with a key and motioned Dean to enter before stepping inside himself.

The room was like most of the other single couple rooms. A large four poster bed with a comfy mattress and dark red silk sheets. Padded walls decorated with various chains and whips and crosses, even different sized cock cages and dildos. The ceiling was covered by a thick metal bars going both horizontal and vertical and dangling chains.

It was a little intimidating in all honesty but Dean had gotten used to these types of rooms in the last few years with Alistair - the man had loved them. He stood to the side, nervously waiting for a command. Castiel didn't make him wait long though, immediately ordering him to strip and fold his clothes and set them on the table beside the door. Dean quickly did so and turned back to Castiel, finding him standing five feet away with his hands folded in front of him, patiently waiting for Dean apparently.

_Whatever you do, Castiel, don't look down._

Castiel seemed to have heard his prayers, because he didn't lower his eyes to his body.

He flushed slightly, shifting on his feet and lowering his head, shoulders slumped and feet spread apart, hands clasped behind his back. Castiel tsked and walked closer, revealing to Dean's unobservant eyes that he had removed his shoes and socks. Castiel's fingers appeared under his chin, forcing his head up, he didn't look him in the eye, instead choosing to stare at his nose.

"I want you to look at me, Dean," Castiel said. "Always." He nodded. It was odd considering most Doms - Alistair - hated eye contact with their sub; or in Dean's experience they did. But he could do that, he could be good for Castiel. He swallowed and forced his eyes up, staring into approving deep blue. "Good." 

Dean felt warmth spread though his chest rapidly and flushed further, hoping his contentment didn't reflect on his face. From the amused look on Castiel's face though, he doubted his hopes were true. Castiel stroked his jaw tenderly, a warm and inviting look on his face. It made Dean relax and his eyes close, and he leaned into the sweet touch, enjoying the gentle pressure and reassurance those fingers gave. The hand slowly moved from his jaw to his cheek, a slight press of soft fingers.

The hand disappeared, and he opened his eyes. Castiel cleared his throat and an indifferent look appeared. "Kneel on the bed." Dean quickly moved to obey, because this was a very good and safe thing, walking over to the bed and crawling on top of it, back to Castiel and hands folded in his lap. Stay calm. That was it. He just had to stay calm. Nothing bad was going to happen. Castiel wasn't like that. Or... or was he? "Dean?"

He blinked and turned his head to the right, locking eyes with Castiel. Concern shown in his blue eyes, and a frown marred his lips. "Yes, Sir?"

"Are you alright?" Castiel carefully sat down on the bed, back to the headboard and knee bent onto the sheets.

"Yes, Sir. I'm alright, Sir."

"Dean," Castiel licked his lips. He looked like he wanted to say more on the matter but let it go. "Please state your safewords."

"Red, yellow, green," he said immediately; then quickly added, "Sir."

Castiel nodded and stood, walking behind him. "And what do they mean?"

"Red means we stop the scene completely and talk things through. Yellow means slow down or stop and talk about what's going to happen before we continue; and green means proceed," Dean said. His body felt incredibly tense, and there was a familiar distracting flutter in his belly.

"Good. We won't be using gags this evening, so I find there is no need to run through your non-verbal safewords. Do you feel we have to?" Castiel was watching him, he could feel it. Dean shook his head, he didn't feel the need. "Okay. Lay down on your stomach, arms and legs straight, head turned and on a pillow."

He obeyed the simple order, trying to relax but failing. This was just so nerve racking. What if Castiel tied his arms and legs to the bed posts and whipped him and ignored his safeword and then left him? Oh shit. That was bad. Bad, bad, bad. He was gonna have a panic attack. Breathe, Dean, breathe. He exhaled air then greedily breathed a fresh wave back in. In and out. In. Out. In. Out. Okay, he was fine.

He was fine.

The bed dipped below his feet, and there was a pause before something landed gently on the bed to his right. A bottle. Lube? Already getting into it. That was fine. He just kind of wished they could have played a little. He wanted some foreplay, something to arouse him at least. But he wasn't the one making decisions, so it wasn't his choice. He could take what he got, or safeword and get the fuck out of here; but he wasn't going to do the second thing.

"I'm going to sit on your thighs. Is that alright with you?" Is that alright with him? Yeah, that was fine. Why the hell was he asking? Dammit; he really hoped this guy wasn't a beginner - he hadn't sounded like he was - then he really would be fucked.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, closing his eyes. Castiel shifted and then crawled towards him, half-straddling his ass and thighs. What the hell was he doing? How was he going to get to his hole if he was fucking sitting on his ass? There was a click of a bottle then a soft squirt. The bottle was closed and tossed back onto the bed. Then it sounded as if Castiel was rubbing his hands together.

God, this was really weird. Was he going to jerk off to half his face and hair or back? That would be kind of creepy. "May I touch your back?"

What the fuck.

"Yes, Sir."

Castiel hummed and his hands pressed into his shoulders. They were warm and moist and soft. They gently rubbed his tense muscles, drawing a soft moan from his lips. He tensed, and bit his lip, hoping he hadn't heard. "Feel free to make as much noise as you like." So he had heard.

He relaxed and let go of his lip. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," he said quietly. Castiel hummed again, and continued his rubbing. Dean couldn't help but wonder why he was rubbing him, because it wasn't normal; if anything, he should be the one rubbing Castiel. But fuck, he groaned, did this feel really good. No one had rubbed him, like... ever. Unless a warm squeeze to the shoulders or arm counted, then he'd been rubbed countless times.

He hissed when Castiel pressed a particularly sore spot, but didn't tense, instead melted further into the sheets. Pain was okay, he liked pain; he deserved pain. Besides, it didn't hurt too bad, it felt kind of nice. Castiel patiently and evenly massaged his whole back, even down to his kidneys and hips; occasionally stopping to squeeze out more of the oil or lotion he was using. When he was done rubbing his back, he finally moved. He slid down Dean's body to hover over his calves as he gently rubbed between his ass and knees.

Castiel's second knuckle accidentally bumped against his perineum and a quiet whine escaped him. The man paused, then chuckled and continued rubbing his inner thighs. Dean felt his face heat up, because he didn't whine, dammit. He'd never whined. He clenched his hands then shook himself mentally. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't. He relaxed again, hands opening and laying against the sheets.

Dean slowly opened his eyes. Castiel had stopped. Why had he stopped? "Turn over please." Fuck! No! He couldn't turn over. That was bad, very bad. His eyes widened and his body tensed, his breath catching. Fuck, Castiel was going to be disgusted when he saw it. He was going to get up and walk away, leave him here to lay, naked and pathetic and scarred.

_Ugly._

"Yellow," he croaked, scrambling up and turning around, pressing his back to the headboard - uncaring of the pillows that fell to the floor. He quickly pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, because this way he wouldn't see. He wouldn't see his marred flesh, the evidence of his past and his mind, his deepest secret.

"Dean, please breathe." He looked up, his vision blurry with tears. Castiel was so incredibly calm, or he appeared to be. Kneeling with his hands folded in his lap, a gentle smile on his face. Fuck his smile, he wasn't supposed to be smiling while Dean was on the verge of having a panic attack. "Breathe with me. In and out."

Reluctantly, Dean obeyed. Exhaling whatever air was currently inside his lungs, and inhaling fresh. He watched Castiel mimic him simultaneously, the reassuring smile never leaving. It made him relax, to see his Dom composed and patient. He was putting up with his bullshit, being kind about it. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Castiel said, tilting his head to the side a fraction. "If you are calm enough, please explain to me what set you off." Set him off. What a way to phrase.

"I- I can't... I can't-" Dean swallowed and closed his eyes. Just imagine Castiel was not there. Imagine he was alone and safe and covered from all sides, hidden away from eyes that judged and smiles that pitied. "I can't let you see them."

The bed shifted, and his eyes snapped open. Castiel was kneeling in front of his feet, his hands hovering on either side of his calves. They locked eyes, and Dean felt panic eating away at him, while Castiel just looked so fucking  _calm_. He didn't ask this time, he wrapped his hands around Dean's legs and yanked them towards him.

Dean's arms gave away, as his legs were pulled straight out on either side of Castiel. "No-" he struggled to move them back up to his chest. Shit, Castiel was stronger than he looked. His vision blurred and a sharp noise escaped him, his lip trembling. "Please no."

"Shh," Castiel slid closer, carefully sliding his hands up the sides of his legs, grabbing onto his hips and leaning down. His gaze lowered to his thighs and he frowned, quietly staring at the white lined flesh. Castiel eyes then moved to his groin, taking in the jagged, bumpy scar running horizontal over his groin, an inch above his cock. "I see." He looked up then, looking into Dean's eyes.

He didn't move to leave though.

He didn't move to leave. Why?

Castiel  _smiled_  and leaned his head down, pressing gentle kisses to the tops of his thighs. Dean blinked stupidly, lips parting. What the hell was he doing? Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he smiling? Why was he  _kissing his scars_? Castiel kissed all the scars littering his thighs, then moved to his groin, gently kissing the bare, jagged scar surrounded by trimmed pubic hair. Dean couldn't help but moan, the man's scruffy jaw brushing against him.

"Th-that feels go-od," he breathed heavily, pressing his hips up in an effort to get more contact. Castiel moved with him though, pulling away and pressing back, a steady pressure on the kisses. He pulled away when he reached the end of the scar, but dove back towards him almost immediately. He could feel his breath on his lips but wasn't close enough to move forward for a kiss.

"You are beautiful, Dean," Castiel said, a warmth sparkling in his eyes, something so incredibly overwhelming and loving that it shouldn't be there for a stranger. Dean swallowed, and breathed slowly, lips pressed together. He shook his head, lowering his head so his chin was tucked against his chest. "Yes, you are." Castiel moved closer, cupping his face in his hands, and forcing his head up so they could lock eyes. "Dean. I may not know you very well, but I can already tell you're a genuinely good person. You are beautiful, inside and out. None of those matter, not in the way you feel."

"Why are you saying this?" he whispered hoarsely, sniffing dryly.

Castiel smiled. "Because it's the truth."

"You- you don't even know me," he whispered brokenly, unable to look Castiel in the eye.

"I don't have to know you to know that you're a fighter. That you may have had some moments where it felt too much, and you felt like you needed to hurt yourself, but you pushed past that and you're here now. With fading scars, Dean, no fresh ones. That's amazing. That's good, so incredibly good." Castiel tapped his cheek with his finger, and he looked at the other man again, swallowing a mouthful of saliva as he did. "You're so good, Dean; very good."

He didn't reply, he couldn't. He turned his gaze down once more, staring at his hands and thinking about how much of a loser he was. How incredibly pathetic he was. He wasn't good, he wasn't. He was pathetic, stupid, a low-class bum with a GED and a crappy job. Castiel cleared his throat, but Dean didn't look at him. He had ruined the night with his fucking pathetic scars and emotions. Castiel sighed and shifted on the bed, standing up and straightening his clothes. He walked towards the door, but didn't open it... yet. Dean laughed internally, eyes stinging.

Leaving.

Castiel was leaving him.

How fan-fucking-tastic.

A throat cleared again, and he looked up, a stray tear sliding down his cheek. Castiel's blank expression softened into a gentle, almost sad, one. The man slowly lifted his hand and wiped the tear away, leaning down and pressing a kiss just above his thumb. Something soft scratched against his left thigh, and he pulled back a tad, looking down.

His clothes.

Castiel wasn't leaving him here, he was kicking him out.

"Oh."

"I would like you to get dressed, Dean," Castiel said, stepping back and walking to the door again. He bent down and picked up a pair of socks, lifting each leg individually and sliding one on. Dean blinked and sighed, slumping and grabbing his socks. He pulled them on and followed them with his boxers, and then his jeans and shirt. He stood to adjust the pants and buttoned them. "Did you drive here?"

"No... I, I walked," Dean fidgeted. What did he do now? Just leave? Walk out the door? Castiel tsked and grabbed Dean's shoes, walking over to him and kneeling. He untied the laces and held one out, giving Dean a look as he did. Dean flushed a little but lifted his foot and slid it inside the shoe, watching Castiel tie the laces before doing the same with his other shoe. "Thanks.."

Castiel stood and nodded. "Come on, then."

"It's - it's fine. I can get home myself," he said, looking away and moving to walk around Castiel. Castiel grabbed his arm and pulled him into his body. He swallowed and stared down at him, a little worried and terrified of the hard look the man was giving him.

"You will not," he said slowly, quietly. "Go home by yourself. I refuse to leave you alone right now." He paused, then continued, "I'm going to give you a little choice. After we have dinner, you're either going to let me take you home, and allow me to stay with you for the night or come to my house and stay with me for the night. Which one do you want?"

What.

What, what, what.

Dean frowned, lips parting. He couldn't bring him home with him, his dad was there, and probably drunk off his ass. He could stay the night with him, but that wouldn't do either. He barely knew the guy, and he had to get to work early in the morning. "I... I just want to go home, alone."

"No," Castiel sighed, and let go of his arm, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. "I don't know you, Dean, and you don't know me. But I'm not an idiot. I think this night has greatly affected you, and I refuse to leave you alone, especially when I feel you're going to have an anxiety attack."

"I'm not gonna, okay? I'm fine," Dean shrugged him off, because this was getting weird. He stepped away and walked to the door quickly, opening it and slipping out.

"Dean," he heard, in a tone that sounded annoyed, disapproving and exasperated. He suppressed a grimace, and walked faster, opening the door for the stairs and tensing when he was grabbed. He turned, eyes wide and stared into deep, angry blue eyes. He yelped as he was yanked away from the door and slammed into said door. His heart beat accelerated and his breathing quickened.

"Wh-what are you-"

"You are technically still mine for the night, Dean. And so I expect you to obey me. You will go to dinner with me, and you will come to my house for the night. I do not care what you do after five in the morning, but before that, you will obey me. Are we clear?" Castiel growled, forearm pressing hard dangerously close to his throat. Dean licked his lips and trembled slightly, feeling a small stir of arousal in his belly.

If they were going by those terms, he could safeword out of this. He could say his safeword and get the fuck outta here, and never have to deal with Castiel again. But... but that didn't sound nice, or fun. And he didn't want this night to end, he didn't want to leave the delicious man that was Castiel. He swallowed and slumped against the wall, limp and pliant. And he lamely stuttered, "Y-yes, S-sir-r."

The pressure on his chest eased and Castiel's gaze softened, a sparkle entering his eyes. "Good boy," Castiel murmured throatily as he dipped his head closer and nipped Dean's bottom lip. A shudder ripped through him and he swallowed a small groan, throat feeling dry. "Let's go."

Castiel pulled away, and he made a noise, not exactly a whine but not exactly not a whine. Castiel laughed and tugged him away from the door, opening it and pulling him up the stairs. Dean let himself be pulled, watching Castiel maneuver around tables and chairs and people and push open the doors of the bar. He led him through the cool Autumn night air, past cars and drunk men and women, to a beautiful, well kept '67 Shelby GT 500.

"Wow," Dean touched the midnight blue-black hood, eyeing the car for scratches or fuck ups of any kind. He found none. "Nice car."

"Thank you," Castiel opened the driver side door, leaning an arm on the top of the car with a smirk. "My brother Luke loves cars. He had this restored for me for my eighteenth birthday."

"How... how old are you now?" Dean asked, slipping into the car and admiring the smooth, leather interior.

Castiel followed him into the car, buckling up before replying. "Twenty-five years old. You?" Castiel started the car, and the engine roared to life, rumbling loudly. Dean grinned. Nice. Very nice.

"I'm twenty-two," Dean buckled up as well, looking out the window as they rolled past Toyota's and Ford's and Chevy's. "My dad used to have this really cool '67 Chevy Impala. Man, Baby was gorgeous. Sleek black, beautiful engine. I loved her so much. Dream car, man, dream car."

"What happened to her?" Castiel turned left.

"My dad tried selling her, but my grandpa got pissed. He loved that car almost as much as me, so he bought her off my dad and basically hid her from him. Haven't seen her since," Dean frowned, thinking back to the day Henry had bought the car for 5,000. It wasn't at all what she was worth, not even close, but it was fine for his dad who greedily took the money and spent it on all the alcohol he could buy.

"Have you tried asking him if you could have it?"

"I, uh, no," Dean shifted. "Haven't seen much of him." That was a lie. He had seen his grandpa many times, and had had many opportunities to ask if he could have or buy Baby from him, but he had chickened out each time and just made small talk with the man.

"I see." Castiel pulled into a small diner, and parked, turning the engine off. "You mind if we eat here?"

"Uh, no, thanks," Dean slipped out of the car and followed Castiel inside, eyeing the place and the few people sitting around. A waitress dressed in a frilly yellow dress came over to take their order, a bright smile on her face.

"What can I get you gentleman?" She asked cheerily, surprisingly genuine. Dean glanced at Castiel, finding him watching him in return. He fought a blush and cleared his throat.

"Cheeseburger and fries, thanks," Dean answered, shooting her a charming wink.

"Would you like a drink with that?"

"You got any milkshakes?"

"We only make those in the mornings. I'm sorry," she said, looking apologetic. Dean smiled and shook his head again. "We have apple juice, or orange juice. We have a lot of juices," she laughed slightly.

"Nah. Water's okay." Dean said.

She nodded, "Alrighty." Then she turned to Castiel. "And what about you blue-eyes?"

"Blue-eyes?" Castiel blinked, brows furrowing. Dean snickered and looked away when Castiel gave him a look. "My name is Castiel. And I'll have the same as him. Thank you, Jenny."

Jenny? Dean quickly glanced down at her apron, and saw the name tag that said Jenny. Jenny nodded and grinned at them warmly. "I'll be back with your water, and it'll be a few minutes for your food." Jenny walked away then, ripping the paper off her notebook and handing it to the cook over the counter, talking to him quickly before walking off to another table.

Dean glanced at Castiel then looked away, staring at the plain white tiles on the floor. Castiel was kind, but he didn't feel comfortable enough to go to his house and spend the night. A part of him knew nothing would happen, Castiel didn't seem the type; and even if he did try some shit, he could probably defend himself, although he was strong, maybe stronger than him. Dean chewed the inside corner of his lip, bouncing his leg nervously.

"Dean," Castiel said, and he looked over at him, curious. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Dean smiled, bright and charming and fake. Jenny appeared with their burgers and fries, smiling.

"Enjoy!" she said cheerily, walking off to get another order. Dean was about to ask her for his water when he saw his glass placed on the table, Castiel's already a quarter empty. He blinked, but shook his head internally. Whatever.

He glanced at Castiel, but immediately looked down at his burger when he saw Castiel was watching him. He put some ketchup on it and closed the burger, lifting it and taking a big bite. Castiel chuckled from across the table, and he glanced at him, grinning around a mouthful. Castiel's amused face quickly turned disappointed and he shook his head. "Close your mouth and chew properly," he ordered, assembling and then eating his own burger.

Dean swallowed the bite, and licked his lips. He took a smaller bite, chewing purposefully slowly and swallowing loudly. Castiel huffed but didn't say anything this time, choosing to munch on his fries quietly as he watched him eat. It was weird that he watched him eat, but it wasn't the weirdest shit Dean had had to deal with so that was fine.

They ate quietly and quickly, and then drank their water. Castiel paid after a little arguing and left a large tip for the waitress, and then led Dean back outside to the car. They didn't speak the whole ride to Castiel's apartment, but that was fine too, the radio was enough to satisfy Dean. Castiel parked in a garage and then led him into a large modern home, with simple couches and decorations, and lots of new technology.

Castiel led him into a plain living room, with a black leather couch and love seat and recliner. A plain wood coffee table sitting between all of them, and a black television hanging on the wall opposite the couch, two thin, square-shelved and long stands on either side of it. Castiel sat down on the couch, in the middle and tossed a pillow onto the floor between his feet.

"Strip," he said, staring at Dean with dark looking eyes. Dean hesitated then pushed away his hesitation. Castiel was his Dom, and he was kind. He wasn't going to hurt him, he wasn't going to do anything bad; and most importantly, he didn't care about his scars. Dean quickly removed his clothes and loosely folded them. "Set them on the table and kneel on the pillow."

Dean quickly obeyed, dropping the clothes onto the table and lowering himself to his knees, facing Castiel. The man laughed, "Turn around, Dean." Dean flushed, because how could he be so stupid, and quickly turned around, sitting straight up. "Relax." A hand dropped to his hair, and the television clicked on, Guy Fieri's Triple D show immediately appearing on the screen. The hand massaged his hair gently, and he relaxed.

Castiel slid his hand down to his shoulder and pushed him towards his knee, making him lean into it heavily. He relaxed further, and slumped his body, leaning his head on his knee, his eyes fluttering as the hand returned to his hair and massaged. It was surprisingly comfortable, considering he was on his knees and leaning against some guy he barely knew and a couch. Dean yawned a little, and loosely crossed his arms over his lap, deciding to trust Castiel until he inevitably did something untrustworthy. Dean closed his eyes, a peaceful black creeping up into his sense, and blinding him from all things reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Minor safeword use, evidence/minor talk of past self-harm, minor anxiety/panic attack(s)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, and not proofread. It'd be nice if you guys pointed out any mistakes! Thank you! Enjoy.
> 
> _*whispers* Tell me if I'm doing something wrong/you got any concerns._

Dean groaned and snuggled deeper into the warmth surrounding himself. His pillow moved jerkily, like it was laughing. Come to think of it... he did hear laughter. Dean forced his eyes open and sat up slightly, blinking rapidly.

"Good morning, Dean," Castiel said, looking adorably messy, hair sticking up in all directions. Dean groaned and slumped against him again. "Okay then."

Dean yawned and shut his eyes, clinging to Castiel with all his limbs. He felt achy, and exhausted. And he couldn't even bring himself to care that he had just met Castiel last night. Castiel didn't seem to mind at all, instead wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him closer, somehow.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding worried. Dean nodded, opening his eyes and gazing at the cream blackout curtains. "I have to get up."

Dean nodded again and pulled away, curling his body up on the other side of the mattress, feeling cold and a little unwanted. Castiel made a noise and touched his hip, leaning close enough to him that Dean could feel his unnaturally warm body heat. "Go."

"Are you sure you're alright, Dean?" He sighed and pushed the covers off, getting to his feet and stretching.

"I'm fine," he said after a moment. He was fine, a little tired and cold but he was fine. Dean glanced back at Castiel and smiled, then picked up his clothes from the top of the dresser, pulling them on and adjusting them. "I'm going to go."

"I can drive you, if you give me a few minutes," Castiel said, slipping out of bed and walking to his dresser to get some clothes. Dean stepped away, and pulled his phone out, checking it and finding multiple messages from Charlie.

**_(9/18/15 - 21:44:36 PM) Charlie: Everything okay?_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 01:21:15 AM) Charlie: Seriously how long does it take a guy to get fucked and spanked? CALL ME_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 06:55:03 AM) Charlie: Dude I'm going to kick your ass at work_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 06:55:20 AM) Charlie: I swear I am_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 07:05:51 AM) Charlie: Hurry the fuck up or you'll be late_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 07:06:09 AM) Charlie: And Gordon will kick your ass_ **

**_(9/19/15 - 07:06:34 AM) Charlie: After me of course_ **

"It's fine," Dean said as he typed out a message. "What's your address?"

**_(9/19/15 - 07:15:32 AM) Dean: Sry I fell asleep can u come pick me up?_ **

"23 Terrace Avenue," Castiel said as he walked into the bathroom and pushed the door shut. Dean eyed the door, then typed out the address, sending it to Charlie. She replied back moments later.

_**(9/19/15 - 07:17:05 AM) Charlie: DUDE FINALLY!** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:17:14 AM) Charlie: I'm coming hang on** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:17:27 AM) Charlie: You so owe me deets** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:18:03 AM) Dean: I didnt get laid** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:18:29 AM) Dean: Im such a loser hah** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:18:52 AM) Charlie: Say that again and I swear I'll wreak you** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:18:59 AM) Charlie: Driving talk later** _

_**(9/19/15 - 07:19:10 AM) Dean: K** _

Dean walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, elbows on his knees, hands hanging between his thighs. He glanced around the room, noting how nice and almost elegant everything looked compared to his crappy two bedroom house, one he shared with his dad. Castiel was definitely rich, or at least had a  _very_ decent job. Accountant, lawyer, banker, doctor, therapist... therapist, that was probably it. He had easily dealt with Dean's panicking and hadn't so much as batted an eye.

"You sure you don't want me to drop you off somewhere?" Dean tensed and turned his head, looking over his shoulder at a damp haired, casually dressed Castiel. Low riding stonewashed jeans and a faded AC/DC shirt. And damn, did he look nice in it, much better than the suit - although Dean did have a little suit kink, not that it mattered. He'd never be seeing Castiel again.

"I'm fine. Thanks. Friend's coming to pick me up," Dean glanced at Castiel's digital alarm clock. 7:25. Dean stood and cleared his throat. "I'll just go wait outside."

"No, don't," Castiel walked to the door and opened it, gesturing him to follow. "Would you like some breakfast?" _Why are you offering me food?_

"Er, no, it's okay," Dean followed him into the kitchen anyways though, watching as he grabbed a pot and a bag of instant oatmeal and milk and honey and a spice bottle.

"You sure about that?" Castiel glanced over his shoulder, giving him a disapproving look that tugged at something in his chest. "I don't mind making you something."

"No, thanks," Dean sighed a little, forcing a smile. Hurry up, Charlie, hurry the fuck up.

"Alright. Sit, at least," Castiel mixed his oatmeal on the stove, pointing back at the island with the high chairs. Dean sat down on one of them, bouncing his leg nervously. He eyed Castiel's hair, lips twitching at the way it stood up in the back and towards the sides on the top. Tame the hair, dude, tame the hair.

Castiel moved around more, grabbing things and mixing and whatever else. He then - finally - turned the stove off and grabbed a bowl, pouring the oatmeal into it and setting the pot in the sink. He grabbed a banana from a bowl of fruit and peeled it then cut it into thin slices on top. Then he went to the fridge and took a handful of blackberries, washing them and drying them before putting them in the bowl as well.

"Healthy," Dean commented, watching Castiel take a spoon, flash him a smile, and then walk over and sit right next to him. Of course, he had to sit beside him, not in the other chair that would have given them a decent amount of space. Dean glanced down at his bowl and felt a tug in his stomach. He cleared his throat and looked away, listening to Castiel's spoon scrape lightly against his bowl as he ate.

Dean smelled a hint of cinnamon and heard his stomach grumble loudly. He felt his cheeks burn, and shifted uncomfortably. Castiel didn't make a noise, at all. No scrapes, no quiet chewing, no swallowing, no fucking breathing. Dean felt a hand on the back of his head, forcing him to turn it and stare at Castiel. His face heated further at the amused look gracing the other man's features.

"Sorry," he muttered, glancing at a spoonful of the oatmeal, with a banana slice and small blackberry on top, and licking his lips. Castiel hummed then, and moved the spoon closer to him, almost like he was offering it. Was he offering it? Dean's eyes darted to Castiel's and searched them, finding nothing but encouragement. So he was offering.

Dean lifted his hand and reached for the spoon, gasping and freezing then the hand on his head grabbed his hair and pulled. A tingle shot down his spine and went down between his legs, attacking his crotch vehemently. The pressure didn't ease until he lowered his hand to his lap, then and only then, did Castiel let go and gently massage the abused section of his scalp. Another tingle shot through him.

So maybe he wasn't offering.

Castiel made a noise then lifted the spoon to his lips, gently pressing against them. Dean parted his lips and wrapped them around the spoon, feeling a slight dribble of milky oatmeal on the corner of his mouth as he accepted the food. Castiel pulled the spoon away and placed his elbow on the counter, pushing the bowl away and watching his lips as he chewed and swallowed the food.

Then he moved his head closer, locking eyes with Dean. Castiel smelled spicy, like shampoo or body wash, and he also smelled like aftershave, although he hadn't shaved. His pink tongue darted out and licked the corner of Dean's mouth, a soft kiss immediately following it. Dean swallowed, feeling a near uncomfortable sensation in his lower regions.

Lust. Lust shown in Castiel's eyes. So bright and wanting and desperate. Dean whimpered, and Castiel's eyes darkened further, and he dove towards him. Their lips pressed together in a needy kiss, and Dean's breath was stolen from him. He was vaguely aware of the spoon clattering to the table before Castiel grabbed him by the hips and yanked him closer. His feet hit the ground and his thighs hit the edge of Castiel's seat, two pairs of legs trapping him almost painfully against it. He moaned against Castiel's mouth, responding wholeheartedly to the kiss and deepening it.

He probably tasted like crap, considering he hadn't brushed yet, but Castiel tasted absolutely delicious. Cinnamon toothpaste and more cinnamon flavor from the oatmeal, and berries and banana and a hint of honey. Dean's knees trembled when the other man slid a hand from his hip to his lower spine and scratched him none too gently with his blunt fingernails. He ripped his mouth away, panting and pressing his nose against Castiel's cheek.

Castiel barely let him breathe though, immediately pressing their lips together again and coaxing Dean into letting him into his mouth. Fingernails scratched up his spine, and fingers appeared in his hair, yanking his head back and breaking the kiss and baring his throat. He let out a strangled moan and arched his back. Castiel kissed and sucked on his neck, teeth scratching down his sensitive throat and Adam's apple, down to his collarbones and to his jugular.

Dean was suddenly pushed back then, and he stumbled, eyes wide and heart beating in his ears. Castiel grinned almost ferally and hopped off the stool, stalking towards him and pushing him down to the floor. He fell on his ass and grimaced, throat closing around a cry of surprise and maybe a little pain. He barely had time to think before Castiel was on him again, dropping to his knees carelessly and straddling his thighs and kissing him senseless.

Dean clawed at the hem of Castiel's shirt and when he finally managed to grasp it, he yanked it up and off of the man. His hands pressed against Castiel's lightly muscled torso, nails digging into his flesh. The man groaned and grabbed Dean's shirt, yanking it off with as much force as Dean had his. Dean was then pushed down onto the floor, his hands grabbed and pinned above his head. Castiel kissed him then trailed butterfly kisses down his neck and throat, down his chest and stomach and down to his hips.

A sudden harsh pressure on his wrists told him to keep them there, so he didn't dare move them when Castiel let go. A noise of approval drifted to his ears and he groaned, shuddering against the cool floor below. His jeans were unbuttoned and his pants were yanked down, his bare ass making contact with the cold floor. Goosebumps broke out over his skin, but didn't have time to think about them as Castiel wrapped his lips around his cock and swallowed him down in one smooth slide.

"Shit!" He cried out, hands darting down and fingers delving into Castiel's messy dark brown locks. Castiel growled around him, and he arched his back, hips bucking up, a soft mewl of pleasure escaping him. Castiel pulled off him and grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head once more.

"Keep them there," he said, voice sounding wrecked and throaty and perfect. Dean nodded but then shifted his hips.

"Pants," he panted. "Your pants."

Castiel groaned and pulled away, quickly undoing his jeans and pushing them down to his knees, then his ankles once he shifted. He moved to towards Dean again, a wicked gleam entering his pupil-blown eyes. He placed his knees on either side of Dean's head, feet pressing his hands to the ground, and aligned his cock against Dean's lips, pressing lightly until Dean opened his mouth and sucked. 

Dean moaned and licked a dribble of pre-cum from the tip of his cock, swallowing a mouthful of saliva as Castiel worked his hips down. Lips wrapped around Dean's cock then, and sucked viciously just as Castiel pressed his hips down and forced his thick cock down Dean's throat. Dean choked and tried to move his head back or away but he couldn't because he was trapped between Castiel's thighs; seconds later, he tried to move his arms but couldn't do that either.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. Shit, shit, shit! _He couldn't breathe._  Panic raced through him and he moved his hips, choking and whining around Castiel. Painful thuds sounded in his ears and his eyes watered and his chest contracted but his cock ached more and his balls grew heavier. Then he breathed through his nose and slumped against the floor again, cock stuck down his throat and pumping in and out only ever slightly. Everything receded slightly, and he sort of relaxed, throat unclenching and almost welcoming Castiel's girth. He swallowed multiple times, trying to bring the man pleasure, saliva dribbling down the side of his cheek.

Castiel worked him fast and hard, mercilessly sucking and swallowing and stroking his cock, easily working him to the edge of his orgasm... and then stopping. Dean cried out around his cock, hips surging upwards, seeking the delightful warmth that had surrounded his cock just moments before. He tried to beg, tried to say 'please' but he couldn't make a word around Castiel's dick. Castiel chuckled, and pulled out to the tip, giving him a hopeless second to try and make a word before sliding back down his throat, seemingly uncaring as his throat spasmed around him and he gagged.

He pulled out again, only to slam his hips back down and force Dean to swallow him. He continued doing that, panting and groaning quietly as he did. Hands appeared on Dean's hips and held him in place. His hips pressed painfully into the floor, Castiel's upper weight basically supported by them. A tongue licked at his balls, sucking and teething them gently. He moaned pitifully around Castiel's cock, trying to rock his hips and gain more contact but unable to.

After several moments, Castiel seemed to take pity on him, and moved away from his balls to suck down his cock. Once more working it over with, no doubt, a merciless intent, and Dean tensed, prepared to feel the previous burn of denial. But it never came. Castiel continued to suck and lick at him until he finally came, hard and fast and seeing pure white. Moments later, Castiel came down his throat.

It took a second, but both of them managed to come back to themselves. Castiel carefully pulled away from him and sat down on the tile beside him, panting and curled towards his knees, watching him. Dean swallowed and breathed through his mouth for the first time in what felt like forever, his chest heaving with great breaths of air. He listened to his heart beat a loud beat in his ears and chest and veins and every-fucking-where. His throat felt raw and used and God, it felt wonderful... if a little painful.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, feeling almost unable to process what just happened, his entire body aching pleasantly with the abuse Castiel had just inflicted upon it. His hips hurt, his tailbone hurt, his cock hurt, his throat hurt, his shoulders hurt, his arms hurt, his stomach hurt, his head hurt, his neck hurt; he fucking ached all over.

A long, loud and terrifying beep broke through the relative quiet, and Dean sprang up, eyes wide as he suddenly remembered Charlie. He ignored his protesting body and scrambled to his feet, fixing his boxers and pants and grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulled it on as he raced to the door, taking his shoes and running out the door. He was late, he was so fucking late and he knew it. He had to be. There was no way what they just did took less than ten minutes. Heck, twenty minutes!

"Dean!" He ignored Castiel, seeing Charlie's little yellow car and her red hair poking out over the top of the car as she pressed the horn, drivers door wide open.

"Charlie! Get in the car," Dean hissed, throat aching and voice sounding scratchy. He yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind himself.

"Dude-"

"Get in the fucking car and drive," Dean growled, flinching when Charlie shot him a glare before complying. She climbed back into the car and immediately put it into drive and pressed the gas, heading down the street with a screech.

"What the hell is your problem? We're so fucking late, dude. What took you so long?"  Dean glanced back at the house, and saw Castiel standing there with his jeans pulled up but unbuttoned and a green shirt in hand. Hang on, green shirt? Castiel wasn't wearing a green shirt. Dean glanced down at his shirt and groaned. Fuck. Fucking AC/DC.

"We just fucked each other's mouths," Dean said bluntly, staring straight ahead and ignoring Charlie's incredulous look. Okay, it was more like Castiel fucked Dean's mouth and Dean lay there with his hips pinned to the ground as Castiel sucked him off but those were just the details.

"Dean! Is that why you were late? Holy shit!" Charlie sounded excited, Dean snorted and didn't reply. "What's wrong? Did he hurt you?" Yes, he did. But he liked it. "Wait, nevermind. Probably did."

"Nothing. I'll tell you later, okay? I'm just not... Not now," Dean looked at the clock and sighed, slumping in his seat. Gordon was going to have his ass on a silver platter if they showed up late. He groaned and pressed his head against the cool glass of the window, not paying attention to Charlie. His head hurt, his ass hurt so goddamn much, his throat felt like something died in it and to top it all off, he wanted more. He wanted Castiel to come and find him and fuck his throat so hard that Dean saw dicks instead of stars.

"Dean, we're here," Charlie poked him in the arm until he turned to look at her concerned face. He forced another smile, and opened the car door, unbuckling his seat belt.

"Thanks, Charlie," Dean said, slipping out of the car and shutting the door. Charlie scrambled after him, unbuckling and opening her door and shutting it, then locking the car. He watched from a few feet away as she grabbed her bag from the back and marched over to him.

"Let's go secretly flip  _Gurden_  off," Dean snickered at the butchering of Gordon's name.

"Say that to his face," Dean said, holding the door open for her.

"Say what to whose face?" Speak of the devil. Dean waved halfheartedly at his boss, choosing not to reply.

"Say that you're a fucking turd and you need to get your ugly turd face the fuck away from my desk," Charlie said, walking over and pushing him away from her desk, where he was partly sitting.

"I should fire you for that," Gordon rolled his eyes, and stepped away, arms crossed over his chest. "You guys are late."

"Technically, no," Charlie said, flashing him a grin. "We start at 8 and right now, it's..." She glanced at her watch, grimacing. "7:59."

"Says 8 on mine.  _You're late_ ," Gordon walked away. Dean sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Sorry, Charlie," he said, turning to look at his friend. Charlie shook her head and waved him off.

"It's okay. If anything, we're early or right on time." Charlie smirked, and unpacked her things. "Now, go change and start working."

"Hey, Charlie, I'm-"

"I know. Shut up and go before I seriously kick your ass," Charlie flashed him a peace sign then turned away, plopping down at her desk. He smiled and walked away, ruffling her hair as he passed by. "Asshole!"

"Love you too!" He yelled back, strolling into the backroom to change into one of the jumpsuits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Choking, blowjobs, face-fucking, orgasm delay/denial, manhandling, panic, bruises(?)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, enjoy~
> 
> I'd appreciate if you guys could point out any mistakes. Thank you! :)

Dean sat with his elbows on his knees, his phone held between his hands, messages open. He had finished work a few minutes ago, and was just waiting on Charlie to be done. He glanced at the time, 30 more minutes. He looked back at his open messages, chewing his lip. Castiel... Castiel had sent him a text in the middle of the morning, practically pleading with him to schedule a meeting, probably so they could talk or he could get his shirt back. Dean sighed, lifting his left hand and rubbing his eyes. His head hurt like a bitch, and it didn't help that Gordon was arguing incredibly loudly with someone on the phone, or that his coworkers were banging away as they finished up, laughing with each other.

Dean breathed deeply, like Pamela had taught him.  _"Smooth, deep breaths, Dean-o. Think about things you like, things that bring you peace. Hell, think about fucking a goddamn tree if it calms you down."_ He snorted at the memory. God, he missed her stupid ass. She was the best shrink and friend he'd ever had. They liked the same things, food and cars and music and so much more. She was his friend, but she was also his therapist, and she manipulated the two things easily and confidently. Never once did she bring things they talked about as friends into a session, or a session into their regular hours.

Dean didn't realize he was dialing her until he heard the familiar ringing. He was just about to hang up when she picked up, sounding like she had her mouth full of food. "Hullo?" She said again, and then there was the sound of swallowing. A crackle drifted to his ears as she moved her phone around, and then she spoke, voice quieter, "Dean?"

"Hey, Pam," he said, trying to sound cheery and happy. It didn't seem to be working. "How ya doin'? Just thought I'd call and check up on you and the family."

Pam didn't reply, but there was the sound of a chair scraping the floor, like she was standing and then there was heavy boots hitting wood before a door opened and closed. "What's wrong, Dean?" She sounded professional now, like she flicked the switch on to psychiatrist mode. "And don't give me some bullshit answer or try and change this onto me."

"I feel like shit," he sighed, standing and looking around. "Hang on." He walked over to Charlie, pointing at her keys. She nodded, and he grabbed them, waving at her before walking outside and to her car, opening it and sliding into the passenger seat. He slumped down, sighing again. "So... yeah."

"What's happened today, Dean? Yesterday? Tell me everything you remember."

So he did. He told her about being nervous yesterday morning, about having a small panic attack in the afternoon. He told her about waiting in the bar for Castiel, how he felt. He told her about meeting Castiel, and how incredibly delicious he looked. He told her about his safewording and Castiel's kindness and helpfulness. About falling asleep at the man's knees and waking up in his arms. About the exchanged blowjobs and the running away. About the shirt swap and the text... He told her how much his heart hurt with the sincerity and desire of all the actions Castiel bestowed upon him. He told her how much he wanted it all to happen again, exactly the same.

"Oh, Dean," Pam muttered when he stopped speaking, his breathing a little heavier. "If you feel this way, then I highly suggest answering his text, and telling him that yes, you will meet with him. If you say you want this to happen all over again, then let it. Pursue a physical relationship with him, or an emotional one, or both." She paused, sighing. "If he really does treat you with care then I think he'll be good for you. I think he'll be very good for you."

"I can't, Pam-"

"Yes, Dean! You can! Don't let your thoughts get in the way of something you crave! Something that brings you happiness and pleasure. Dean, let it play out. Things happen for a reason, and you meeting Castiel on that website instead of some other man was meant to happen."

"Crazy fate believing bitch."

"Fuck you, Winchester. Don't call me a bitch." Pam laughed quietly, and he smiled slightly.

"Yeah, okay," Dean sighed, looking out the window and spotting Charlie strolling out with her bags. "I have to go. Thank you, Pam."

"You're welcome, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean hesitated. "I miss you guys, ya know."

"Aw, Dean, we miss you too."

Charlie opened the back door and tossed her things inside, humming to herself as she shut it and then opened the driver door. She smiled at him but didn't say anything, probably because he was on the phone. "Alright, Pam, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye, Dean-o." He pulled the phone away and hung up, pulling up his texts and sending Castiel one that said he'd meet him at 6 PM wherever he wanted. He stuffed his phone into his pocket then, buckling up.

"Hey," Charlie said, taking the keys from him and turning the car on. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, smiling at her. She eyed him critically, frowning.

"I don't know how this subdrop thingy works but if you feel wrong, please tell me, Dean," Charlie said, a pleading look in her eyes.

He nodded, "I'm not dropping, so don't worry, Charles. Let's go."

"Yeah, okay," Charlie changed gears and pulled out of the lot, blending into afternoon traffic. Dean thought about telling Charlie about talking to Pam, wondering what she would say, if anything. He glanced out the window, eyeing the traffic practically flying by. She wouldn't judge him, she talked to Pam too.

"I, uh... I told Pam about Castiel." Charlie didn't reply, choosing to remain silent. "She said that I should meet him. So I, I sent him a text to meet at 6."

"That's great," Charlie said, turning her head and shooting him a smile before turning back to the road. Great, right. Just great. Fucking great. His phone dinged and he pulled it out.

**(9/19/15 - 15:04:16 PM) Castiel: Do you have a green, blue or red shirt?**

**(9/19/15 - 15:04:58 PM) Dean: Yeah I got them all why**

**(9/19/15 - 15:05:35 PM) Castiel: Good. Wear green if you wish to continue our relationship, blue if you're unsure and red if it's a no.**

**(9/19/15 - 15:05:40 PM) Dean: K**

Dean looked up when they stopped, and the car turned off. He looked at Charlie and unbuckled. "Look," he handed her his phone before she could leave the car. She took it and read it, a smirk appearing.

"Wear green and let him rock your world, or ass," she grinned, tossing it back to him and climbing out of the car. Dean followed her into her apartment building and up to the fourth floor. She unlocked the door and gestured him inside before following and locking the door behind herself.

"I have 3 hours, Charlie," Dean plopped down onto her couch, staring at the ceiling. Three hours til he wanted to kill himself 10 times more than usual.

"You got Sunday and Monday off, have sex all friggin' day with him," Charlie sat down at the end, pulling his feet into her lap and removing his shoes, tossing them to the floor.

"I can't. He works Monday to Friday."

"You still got Sunday."

"Still, how the heck do I tell him I wanna spend the night at his house so he can fuck me and beat me until I come?" Dean groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into his face.

"Just like that?"

"Charlie!"

"Okay, okay!" She hummed, absently scratching his ankle lightly. "Honestly, Dean, just tell him you wanna get down and dirty. Go meet him later and wear a green shirt and let it play out."

"Charlieee," Dean whined, pulling the pillow away.

"Shut up and do it," Charlie grunted and pushed his feet away, standing and padding into her kitchen. "You hungry?"

"Not really," Dean's stomach hurt. Nausea. Butterflies. Nerves. Whatever they called it, that was what he felt. Dean closed his eyes, almost dreading having to see Castiel again... even if a part of him really, really,  _really_  wanted to.

"Seriously, Dean, stop being such a baby," Charlie walked back into the room with a bowl of cereal, plopping down beside his feet. "It'll be fine."

Yeah, sure, of course she wouldn't understand. She never experienced any of this first hand. Dean sighed, turning towards the TV when Charlie turned it on.

***

Dean adjusted his dark green shirt, and smoothed his plain jeans, hoping they weren't too terrible. He turned around and paused, staring at the shirt on his bed. He sighed and snatched it up, tugging it on. Dark green and dark blue. He sincerely hoped it told Castiel exactly how he felt... and maybe he could flash his panties. He shook his head. Just talking.

He quickly walked out, checking his phone and frowning at the time. He was gonna be late, and that was definitely not good. Dean quickened his pace, snatching his keys and wallet up and shoving his boots on.

"Dean!"

He groaned inwardly. "Yeah, dad?"

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Did you make dinner?"

"... No."  _Go fucking make it yourself,_  Dean sighed. 

"Why the fuck not?"

"Cuz I got shit to do. Bye."

"Don't fucking talk-"

Dean quickly opened the door and closed it, hurrying to Charlie's car before his father actually got off his ass for once and came outside. He climbed into the car, watching as she pulled out of the driveway and headed towards a local cafe Castiel had texted him to meet at.

By the time she dropped him in the parking lot, it was two to six. He quickly climbed out and thanked her, jogging towards the door of the bakery. He opened it and stepped inside to the smell of rich coffee and sweet desserts. Dean looked around, spotting Castiel in the back corner, and headed over.

"Hey, uh, sorry," Dean smiled slightly at Castiel's blank stare. He glanced at his phone. 5:59 PM. He was safe. Technically.

"Why are you sorry?" Castiel eyed his clothing, head tilted.

"Was almost late," Dean said, plopping down in the seat across the Dom. "So, uh..."

"I have your shirt," he held up a small plain white bag and slid it across the table. Dean cleared his throat, and pushed it to the edge of the table.

"Uh, thanks. I didn't... bring yours."

"That's alright. Keep it," Castiel smiled, sliding his chair forward and intertwining his hands on the table. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Uh, no, thanks," Dean breathed deeply. Fuck, how did he start this.

Castiel nodded. "You... You're wearing green and blue. I'm not quite sure I understand what you're trying to convey. Would you mind explaining?"

"I-I wanna continue but I'm... unsure."

"What about exactly?"

"Us. You. What you want." Dean shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, picking at the corner of his nails.

"So you're unsure about what's expected but you're comfortable with the rest?"

"Yes, si- sss." Dean fought off a blush, desperately hoping Cas hadn't caught that slip up. He risked a look at the man, finding a small smirk and prominent twinkle in his eyes. Fuck his ass... Hang on. Cas? Jesus, maybe he liked the guy a lot more than he thought if he was unconsciously nicknaming him.

"I left a small gift for you in that bag, Dean." He frowned, glancing at the white bag curiously. "Take it into the washroom and open it." That was an order. One he immediately obeyed. Dean stood and grabbed the bag, hesitating for a brief second before walking towards the two washrooms with a female and male symbol on them. He entered the appropriate one and quickly shut the door, locking it and glancing around. Toilet, sink, garbage.

With shaking hands, he opened the bag and pulled out a thin black box and a bottle. He frowned when he read it was strawberry flavored lube. He set it on the sink. He flicked the lid off the box, placing it on the side of the sink as well. His throat closed around a gasp, mouth drying up and heart beginning to pound in his ears. He suddenly felt way too cramped in this small washroom, his clothes too tight.

A dildo, a fucking dildo. An honest to fucking god  _dildo_!

Jesus fuck.

Dean pulled out the pink silicone, placing the box on top of the lid and holding it with both hands. It was incredibly smooth, and thin and long. It was about four inches wide but at least six or seven inches long. Dean shook his head and set the fake penis in the box, quickly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He lowered them to his knees, along with his pink panties. He grabbed the bottle of lube, hesitating before shaking his head again, and squirting a good amount onto his fingers.

He reached behind himself, leaning his upper body forward and pushing his ass out. He slipped his index between his cheeks, teasing his rim a little bit before gingerly pushing the tip of his finger inside. He groaned, biting his lip and struggling to remember why the fuck he'd stopped fingering himself.

Whatever.

He worked his index inside, then changed it for his middle finger, managing to reach deeper into himself with it. He shuddered, knowing he was so close to his prostate, but also knowing that if he dared to touch it, he'd not stop until he came. And he didn't think Cas would appreciate that much, if he knew.

Dean quickly worked his index finger back in, alongside his middle this time. He scissored his fingers, stretching himself as much as he could before carefully pressing another finger against his rim and inside his hole. He moaned softly at the burn, shifting on his feet and spreading his legs as much as his jeans allowed. His cock throbbed between his legs, curved towards his belly button and practically begging from attention.

Dean hissed when he shifted, the tip of his cock brushing against his stomach pleasantly. He quickly worked his fingers, biting his lip harder as he struggled to contain his sounds. He added another finger, moving quicker this time and ignoring the burn. After several seconds, he decided he was good enough and pulled his fingers out reluctantly. He grabbed the dildo and slicked it up, pressing the tip to his hole and pressing it inside.

It burned more than his fingers had, but it felt good at the same time. He pressed it in deeper, gripping the edge of the sink with his free hand. He paused halfway, panting and sweating a little bit. Fuck, it's been a long time since anything went up there. Dean pushed it inside further, and barely managed to stifle the sharp cry that threatened to expose his activities when the head of the dildo brushed against his prostate.

Dean ignored it and managed to push the silicone in all the way without anymore... problems. He stood straight and shifting on his feet at new feeling of being stretched. Dean clenched gently around the cock and groaned softly. He was so screwed, literally and figuratively. He quickly washed his hands and the bottle of lube, drying both before stuffing everything back in the bag and pulling his clothes back up. He walked in a circle around the room, trying to make himself get used to the feeling and find a proper place in his pants to hide his aching cock.

Dean opened the door and slowly walked out, heading back towards where Cas was sipping from a white cup. The man's eyes flicked over to him, and he smiled deviously. The moment Dean bent half way to sit down in his chair, a click sounded and the fucking dildo came alive, sending vibrations through his whole ass. Dean squeaked and his legs turned to jelly, and he fell into his chair with a quiet thud, jostling the dildo almost painfully.

Cas chuckled, leaning back and placing the hand that had been in his lap on the table, revealing a small black remote. A click sounded and a second later, the vibrations stopped and Dean didn't know whether to feel relieved or deprived.

"Just testing," Cas explained, setting his cup on the table. "I wanted to be sure you had put it in."

"Yeah, well, I did," Dean shifted uncomfortably, biting his sore lip as he did. Cas hummed, tilting his head and eyeing him once more. "I-I have a question for you."

"Please, ask." Cas let go of his cup and the remote, folding his hands and giving him his full attention.

Dean licked his lips, glancing away from Cas's eyes. "What kind of... relationship do you want from me?"

"Relationship?" Cas turned and looked out the window to his right. "I'm open to any kind of relationship you have in mind. What kind of relationship would you like, Dean?" Cas chose his words carefully, turning his gaze back to Dean.

Dean fidgeted, licking his lips again and biting the center of his bottom lip, then releasing it. "A-a physical one would be, be nice."

"Of cour-"

"But," Dean quickly interrupted, panicking. "I-I'm open to other kinds..." He couldn't look at Cas, his heart beating so loud and hard that he was sure the whole cafe could hear it over their conversations and the soft music playing in the background.

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean." Fuck, Dean should've said that to Cas when he first said he was open to any kind of relationship. Fuck his ass, wait, he technically was fucking his ass with a fake dick. Nice. Great. Fantastic.

"Uh..."

Cas laughed softly, and he looked up, terrified the man was laughing at him, but all he found was a warm, amused look and a small smile. "Is 'uh' the new way to ask someone out?"

"I wasn't..."

"Oh? My apologies," Cas's eyes twinkled, and the corners wrinkled, and Dean mentally stabbed himself in the throat for rhyming.

"Would you go out with me?" His voice sounded small and unsure and it cracked a little in the middle of his sentence but he didn't let it bother him, because Cas's smile had gotten wider and his eyes had brightened further.

"Yes, Dean. I'd love to go out with you."

"Great, so when do you fuck me?" Dean muttered, and then froze, suddenly aware his mouth had just moved and he had just said his thoughts out loud and Cas wasn't moving, seemingly also frozen and shocked. And holy fucking shit - FUCK HIS ASS.

Click.

The vibrator turned on, and he tensed, feeling the wonderful sensations ripping through him. He bit his lip, trying to stifle any noises that threatened to come out. "You want me to fuck you, boy?" Dean whined, squeezing his eyes shut. "Answer me." Cas demanded, a soft growl behind his words.

"Yes, yes, please." Dean breathed heavily, fighting back soft moans.

Click.

Oh, shit. "Sir," he whined again, squirming around as much as he could without drawing attention. "Please, please. Please, Sir."

Click.

"Ngh," Dean gasped, hands shooting out to grip the edge of the table. He finally looked up, locking eyes with Cas. His eyes looked so dark, and a wicked grin was twisting his pale pink lips up. Dean moaned softly, conscious of the fact he was being really loud and he couldn't even stop himself.

"Come to my house, and I'll fuck you." Cas shifted a little under the table and then stood, grabbing his coffee and the remote. He stepped away from the table, and then paused, smiling at Dean innocently. "Oh, and Dean? This stays on." He waved the remote at him then slid it into his pants, and then began walking away.

"No, no, Cas," Dean reached out and grabbed his shirt, tugging him back. "Please, Cas. Please, don't-"

Cas leaned down, brushing their noses together. "Be a good boy and hurry up, Dean. I don't like to be kept waiting." His hand slid into his pocket and Dean could barely make out a soft click before the vibrations turned up a notch. He moaned, legs trembling slightly.

"Please," he begged, aware of the soft buzz that was filling the air.

"Hurry before someone hears," Cas whispered, laughing and walking away, a soft ding signaling his leave. Shit, shit, shit. Dean swallowed a mouthful of saliva and forced himself to push away from the table. He stood on shaky legs, flinching as the quiet buzz got a little louder. He quickly glanced around, feeling relief when he noticed that no one was looking at him or seemed to be aware of it. He grabbed the bag and turned to walk away, noticing Cas standing by his midnight colored car from the window.

Cas smiled at him and waved the remote. A second later, Dean felt the vibrations go up. Fuck! He felt his face heat up and tried to quickly walk past the people chatting away happily. And he almost made it, until the vibrations turned up again and his legs nearly gave out and he grabbed a table occupied by an older man.

The man frowned at him, and Dean quickly apologized profusely, stumbling away with a burning face. The man blinked, then a small smirk seemed to appear, and he glanced down at Dean's jeans before looking back at his face.

Oh fuck, he knew.

Dean stammered out more apologies, stumbling away and out the door, nearly running towards Cas's car. Dean slid inside the passenger side and clicked his seat belt on, ducking his head when he caught Cas's dark smile, shifting to get comfortable and moaning when the dildo pressed against his prostate. Oh, God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't. Cas chuckled and turned the car on, the engine adding to the vibrations running through Dean.

He squirmed, moaning softly at every bump. "Please, Cas," he gasped, gripping his seat belt.

"You ask me for things yet you can't even show me some respect," Cas sighed dramatically, then tsked, shaking his head. "I'm quite disappointed in you, boy."

Dean whimpered, squirming further. "Please, please, I'm sorry, Sir. I'm sorry," he panted a little, rocking his hips, eyes widening as his panties brushed gently over his hard cock, almost stroking him. He moaned, trembling. " _Please_!"

"Stay quiet for me now. Show me you can be good." Dean bit his lip, barely stifling a groan. He could do this, he could be good for him. He could be quiet. He squirmed further, squeezing his eyes shut. Fuck, he was going to come and Cas was going to be mad and dammit.

"I-I can't- I'm- I'm gonna-" Dean bent forward, hissing softly. Cas's hand touched the back of his head, and he shuddered, barely containing another groan.

"Shh, you can, Dean, and you will. You will not come without my permission. Do you understand, boy?"

"Y-yes, yes, yes," Dean chanted, unsure himself if he was saying it to Cas or if it was because he was so close. 

Dean peaked out the window, barely able to realize that they were almost there. Cas pulled into his garage a few minutes later, and turned the car off. "If you can make it inside, you may come."

Dean unbuckled and pushed the door open, speed walking to the garage door and turning the handle. He whimpered when he realized it was locked and turned back to Cas, finding him taking his time getting out of the car and locking it. The man smiled at him casually, walking over at a snail's pace.

"Da--- S-Sir," Dean bit his lip, but Cas didn't notice his slip, probably because of all the whining and moaning he was doing. Cas slowly unlocked the door and turned the handle, opening it and stepping inside before Dean could even try and slid past him. He stopped in the doorway and began to remove his shoes. "Sir!" Dean gripped the door, his legs so close to giving out.

By the time Cas finished removing his shoes and  _finally_ moved inside more, allowing Dean room to enter, Dean was right on the edge. He stumbled inside, and he didn't know what happened exactly but he just seemed to let go. He fell to his knees with a thud, and bent forward, wailing softly as he came in his pants for the first time since he was fifteen and still a virgin having wet dreams.

He trembled on the floor, aware of Cas quietly standing to the side, watching him. He moaned, pressing his forehead harder against the floor, back arching and hips rocking. He heard a sharp inhale from Cas, but didn't know why. There were a few quiet clicks before the vibrations finally stopped. Dean turned onto his back, melting into the floor.

Dean looked at Cas, panting softly and feeling a little dizzy from his orgasm. Cas smiled at him and crouched, hungry eyes taking him in. "Would you like me to fuck you now, honey?"

Dean whined, arching his back and nodding. 

Cas chuckled and slid an arm under his shoulders and legs, holding him close and standing, cradling Dean towards his chest. As he began walking towards the stairs, he asked, "Would you like me to fuck you in your panties, honey?"

"Yes, please," he croaked, burying his face in the man's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Vibrator, orgasm control, public playing(?), panty kink**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edit: I fixed the chapter the best I could. If a few things are still wrong please tell me. I'd appreciate it! <3**
> 
> ~~Edit: I'm going to be editing this chapter and fixing it up because Castiel and Dean's contract should have been written while both were on equal ground. Sorry for this current version. Enjoy anyways. :)~~
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> _It kinda sucks ): Sorry_
> 
> It'd be nice if you guys could point out mistakes~

It was a few days later that Dean heard from Cas. And even at that it was a simple text that told him to meet him at his house at six in the evening and wear his pink panties. Dean had Charlie drop him off that night and told her he'd check in with her at nine or in the morning if he stayed the night. Charlie was reluctant to agree to that but nodded and went off after some convincing that he'd be okay. 

Dean inhaled and exhaled a few deep breaths before knocking on the wooden front door. "Coming!" Dean smiled slightly at the deep voice, but quickly schooled his features when the door opened to reveal Cas in a pair of low riding jeans and a loose graphic tee. "Hello, Dean."

"Hi."

"Come in," Cas stepped aside, and Dean walked inside, watching the man close the door and turn to him with a smile. "How are you?" Dean shrugged.

"I'm fine. You?" He removed his shoes, setting them neatly to the side and pulled off his jacket. Cas took it from him and hung it up on a hook.

"I'm well. Come with me. I have some things I'd like to discuss with you." Cas smiled, but it seemed false to him. Dean's heart started beating faster and his hands became clammy.

"O-okay. What kind of... things?" Cas didn't reply, shaking his head instead and gesturing him to follow. Dean obeyed, walking a little behind the man as he led him into a dining room with a laptop open. God, he was going to tell him to leave. It was the scars, wasn't it? Or maybe the fact Dean was really needy and emotional. Fuck he shouldn't have been such a bitch the first day.

"I'd explain but I think it would be better if you just read it." Cas smiled, nervous and gestured to the open laptop. Dean hesitated, he'd never seen Cas nervous before. He walked around the table and looked at the open window. His mouth dried up instantly.

"Cas?" He said quietly. He thought they had agreed to a relationship, an actual relationship, not... this. Dean risked a look up at Cas, hurt building.

"It's not what you think it is, Dean," Cas said quickly, most likely because of whatever showed on his face. "I just think it's safer and easier for you to trust me this way." Cas eyed him, but Dean looked back down at the screen, reaching out and scrolling down the page. A D/s contract. Formal and strict.

It stated that he was the submissive and Cas was the Dominant. That they would have play times agreed upon by both parties and... God, Dean swallowed. There was a list of hard and soft limits with a one to five scale beside each listed item. There was a section for safewords and limits and so much more. Dean stepped away from the computer and looked at Cas.

"I would like to finish it with you, Dean." Cas walked around the table and stood close to him, an intense look in his blue eyes. "If you wish, that is."

"Yeah," Dean swallowed, glancing down at Cas's lips before looking back into his eyes. "Okay."

"Sit," Cas pointed at the seat across from the laptop and then sat down in front of the computer. Dean quickly walked around the table and sat down, heart pounding and eyes eagerly wide. Cas smiled, then looked at the screen and did something that he couldn't see before he turned his gaze back to him. "What safeword would you like to use?"

"Impala." Dean said immediately, earning a brief, amused glance from Cas before the man typed on the laptop. Cas turned back to him, suddenly very serious. It made him nervous. The man watched him for a moment, looking for something then nodded, more to himself than anything.

"Okay. Now I'm going to read from a list. I want you to tell me how you feel about each of these." Cas said, sounding almost monotone. "Please rate each from one to five, one being 'definitely not, never' and five being 'yes, please.' Are we clear, Dean?"

"Yes, Cas,” he swallowed, clenching his hands in his lap. God, he was so nervous. What if he agreed to something Cas didn't like? Dammit.

***

"One."

"Good. Spanking by hand?"

"Five," Dean answered.

"Spanking by paddle?"

"Five."

Cas's lips quirked up, and he lifted his gaze from the laptop. "Tell me, Dean, is there anything you wouldn't like to be spanked with?"

"No. I believe I would enjoy being spanked with anything you use."

"So that's a five to all the spanking choices?"

"Yes," Dean bit his lip, squirming a little on the chair at the thought of a deliciously burning ass. Cas chuckled and typed a little on the laptop, before leaning back in his own chair.

"I've written spanking by hand, flogger, cane, whip, paddle, brush and belt as five. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes. It's all right with me."

"Good." Dean swallowed a moan before it could gain sound. "Oral sex?"

"Five."

"Verbal abuse and humiliation?"

"I think they're a two." Dean grimaced.

"You think?" Cas echoed him, lifting his gaze from the screen.

"I-I'm not quite sure about those ones. I'm sorry. I-" Dean looked down at the table, a tremor shaking his folded hands.

"Dean, look at me." He obeyed, lifting his gaze and staring Cas in the eye with difficulty, although not wishing to upset him by being a stupid little shit by taking his time. "Would you enjoy being insulted? Called a slut, or a whore? A cocksucker, or a toy only useful when it came to providing a warm hole?"

Dean's lips parted, his mouth drying up. His lips trembled as he swept his tongue over them, attempting to moisten them. "D-depends."

"On?"

"How I feel in a particular moment," Dean said. Cas's eyes narrowed a touch.

"I'll just set it as a two then." His gaze drifted back to the screen. "Asphyxiation?"

"F-five," Dean squirmed, heart beating faster.

"Would you prefer it done by me or yourself?"

"B-both, please." Dean rocked his hips, imagining choking from his own hand, or even better, Cas's hand around his throat. A quiet whimper spilled from his lips before he could stop it, and he watched Cas's eyes snap towards him, alight with worry. They darkened almost immediately the moment they landed on him, however, and a small smirk twitched his lips.

"I'd say that's at least a seven, wouldn't you?" Cas laughed at his quick nodding, looking intrigued. "Plugs" Dean moaned, entirely too aware Cas had yet to look back at his screen, or drop the smirk. "Aw, you'd like them, huh? Keeping you nice and full until you could take my cock."

"Yes," Dean groaned and felt his cock harden completely, rocking his hips and biting his lip at the feel of his silk panties tucked away in his jeans, stroking his throbbing member. "Please." His eyes fluttered.

"Pay attention, Dean. I won't repeat myself. Chastity cages and cock rings?"

"Uh," Dean licked his lips. "Three."

"Orgasm control?"

He could feel his cheeks warm, but tried to ignore it. "Four."

"Clothespins?"

"Two."

"Enemas?"

Dean ducked his head, "Two."

"Cutting, knife play or blood play?"

"One to all of them."

"Brown or golden showers?"

"Definitely one to both."

"Kneeling?"

"What would kneeling entail exactly?"

"You would be kneeling at my feet while we eat, while I work, or while we watch TV, or things along those lines." Cas explained, tapping his fingers lightly against the table.

Dean nodded. "Five."

"Humiliation? Public or private?"

"Yes. Two to public, three to private." He looked away when Cas turned to him.

"Corner standing?"

"Four."

"Feminization?"

"What does that mean?"

"Wearing heels, stockings, makeup, wigs, panties, etcetera."

Dean hesitated. What did he say to that? He could say yes, and God did he want to. He could say no, and Cas probably wouldn't think twice of it. He felt old nerves surface, and he remembered his father's hateful words when he caught him wearing panties with Rhonda Hurley one time. Cas made a noise, and Dean looked up to see a frown and worry dancing across his gaze.

"Dean? Are you alright?" His eyes told Dean that he knew exactly what was wrong, but he wasn't going to push it. And Dean was grateful for that. “Is something wrong?”

"N-no. Nothing is wrong. That's a... a f... a five," Dean barely managed to stutter it out, hands shaking. Cas smiled, approving.

"Good  _girl._ " He choked on air and a small amount of spit, his eyes widening and his cock throbbing and jerking in his pants in response. "I believe that's everything. Do you have anything to add?"

"N-no." His heart pounded in his ears, fear and shame and guilt clouding over him.

"Good," Cas typed on the laptop, brows furrowed with concentration. "I printed two copies of this. I'll be back." He stood and walked around the table.

"Okay." Cas leaned down, cupping his face with his left hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured, kissing his head again before letting go and leaving the dining room. Dean swallowed, nodding to himself. Cas was proud of him. And that was good, that was okay. That meant that he shouldn't be guilty or ashamed, he... he should be proud of what he liked... Right?

Dean cleared his throat and looked down at his crotch, tentatively reaching out a hand and touching the bulge between his legs. He groaned, god that felt good. He carefully unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sighing as the pressure on his cock eased up. He pulled at the elastic waist of his panties, and then removed his fingers, inhaling sharply when it snapped back against him. His index finger dipped down and stroked the outline of his hard dick, a gentle almost teasing pressure he barely felt.

"Dean," his head snapped up, and he stopped breathing for a moment, taking in the disappointed look on his face and barely resisting the urge to cower and whimper and apologize profusely. Cas cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, flicking through the papers held in them. "Sign on the dotted lines."

He handed him a stack of papers, stapled neatly together, and a black pen. Cas placed the other set of papers on the table, quickly scribbling on lines as he flipped through the pages. Dean followed suit, removing his hands from his body and reading the papers as he signed, making sure everything was right.

_'The Dominant and submissive shall always have sessions / scenes at the Dominant's home. If the Dominant or submissive wish to have a scene / session, outside of their regular activities or meetings and following all rules within the contract, they must have it planned beforehand (i.e: text message, phone call, email, face to face, etcetera) and a place and time will be set. If the Dominant or submissive wishes to call off a scene / session, they must inform the other with a reason.'_

God, this was real. Cas actually wanted him. "Dean? Is something wrong?" Cas was watching him, once more scrutinizing.

"No." He slid the stack of papers across the table and took the offered one from Cas's hand. He quickly signed it in the appropriate spots then set his pen down, folding his hands in his lap.

Cas set his own pen down, and then turned around, leaning against the table and crossing his arms, his head turned towards Dean. "Considering you weren't technically my sub a few minutes ago, I'm going to ask you. Do you think it is appropriate for me to punish you for touching yourself?"

It was a disguised question: Did he want to scene or not? He did. He wanted to be spanked, he wanted to be punished; he'd been almost craving a hand spanking for the last few months.  

Dean blinked, forcing his expression to remain neutral. He could say yes, and he could say no, and Cas wouldn't think twice about it. They had had rules before but this was so much different. This was… he didn’t even know the right word.

"Yes, sir."

Cas’s eyes flashed at the name but his face remained blank otherwise as he leaned closer, tilting his head so his ear faced Dean. "I'm sorry; I don't think I heard you."

"Yes, sir, I think it's appropriate for you to spank me," Dean said, shifting nervously. Cas hummed and pushed away from the table, walking around and closing his laptop.

"Stand up and bend over the table."

Dean scrambled to obey, pushing the chair back and stepping to the side, eagerly leaning over the table so he was on his toes. Cas didn't make a sound as he walked, but Dean could see him move around the table and come to stand behind his body. "Eager, aren't you, boy?" Dean groaned in response, quivering with anticipation. Cas made a noise as he gently stroked Dean's covered cheeks.

Cas tugged at his pants, pulling them down his legs and tossing them onto the table. He pulled him up by his shirt and removed that too before pushing him back down onto the hard surface.

"Count each slap." That was all the warning he got before Cas's hand smacked his right cheek with a shocking amount of strength. Dean moaned, hips jerking sharply and rattling the table.

"One, sir," he breathed, placing his arms flat on the table on either side of his head.

"What was that, boy?"

"One, sir," Dean said louder. Cas made a disappointed sound and slapped his right cheek again.

"Try again."

Dean frowned, wondering what he did wrong. Cas had said count, and he had counted, and he had used the honorary. So what else-oh. Oh, fuck. "One, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Much better." Cas brought his hand down on his ass again, hitting his left cheek this time. Dean sighed, rocking his hips back, his dick throbbing sweetly in response to Cas's hits.

"Two, sir. Thank you, sir." Cas slapped him faster then, barely giving him time to say the number or thank him, barely giving him time to breathe. He paused after a while, stroking his ass gently. Dean breathed deeply, eyes sliding closed. Cas's fingers hooked on the outer edges of his panties and then he pulled suddenly, forcing the material between Dean's cheeks and earning a gasp.

"You have such a beautiful ass, honey," Dean shuddered, biting his lip. The panties pulled almost painfully over his cock, pressing it down and between his thighs and into his balls. "And it's already such a lovely shade of pink." His cock pulsed, and he pressed his hips forward, a soft whine escaping his throat as the panties were pulled tighter and his thighs pressed against the unforgiving wood of the dining table.

Cas twisted his hand in the material and Dean hissed, the fabric pressing his balls up painfully, his trapped dick only making it worse. "Cas," he gasped, body shaking. The man chuckled in response, but eased up on his grip, giving Dean a little more give and making it a little less painful.

There was a thoughtful sounding hum before Cas's handed descended up on his ass over and over, making him shake and squirm and sob. The Dom didn't reprimand him for not counting or thanking, didn't slow down or speed up, he just slapped him over and over in unpredictable places. He spanked him until his ass and thighs ached somewhere between pleasant and painful, his eyes watered and soft choked sobs escaped his lips, his legs trembled dangerously and his fingers dug into the table, desperate for something to hold onto. 

Only then did he stop and pull the panties for between his cheeks and smooth it over his burning ass. "Come here, darling," Cas murmured, gently pulling him up off the table and wrapping his arms around him. "You were so good for me. Such a good boy," he cooed in his ear, stroking his hair and gently dragging his blunt fingernails over his scalp. Dean practically purred, burying his face in the man's neck.

Cas guided him towards the chair Dean had previously vacated in favor of his spanking and sat down in it, pulling Dean into his lap. Dean shuddered and let out a soft, pathetic whimper when his thighs brushed against the rough fabric of Cas's pants. Cas's hand tenderly slid up the sides of his thighs, moving over the backs and stopping just below his ass cheeks. Then he slid his hands down to the backs of his knees and up again, repeating the motion a few times. Dean squirmed, uncomfortable.

"Would you like to come now, boy?" Dean groaned, his attention suddenly away from his aching ass and now on his throbbing cock. He rocked his hips forward, shuddering when it pressed into Cas's body. "Boy, answer me." Cas's fingernails dug into the sensitive flesh of his thighs, lightly dragging up to his ass. Dean cried out, instinctively trying to move his legs away but having nowhere to go. Cas sighed. "I was going to be nice and let you come, but now I don't think I will."

Dean huffed in irritation, thinking he deserved to come after that, but Cas clucked his tongue, shaking his head before Dean could even open his mouth to argue. It was a warning to not make it worse, and clear as day. For some reason it made Dean angrier, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Cas's lips quirked up, and he lifted a hand, smoothing his thumb over the left corner of Dean's lips.

Cas's thumb drifted up to his cheek, stroking. "You have a tremendous amount of freckles," Cas said softly, gaze flickering from cheek to cheek with interest. Dean flushed, moving his head away. He always disliked his freckles, and his big lips and eyes and long lashes. Cas frowned but didn't object, dropping his hand to Dean's thigh... right over his old scars.

Neither looked down, and Dean was pretty sure Cas didn't even realize his hand was touching them. He breathed deeply and leaned forward, pressing his nose to Cas's neck. The man smelled absolutely divine. He closed his eyes and concentrated on heartbeat, feeling it throbbing on his backside and in his cock. "Can I please come?"

"No, and don't ask again." Dean swallowed a whimper, clutching Cas's shirt. "Another thing, Dean," Cas began. "I'm leaving for a conference tomorrow morning and I'll be back Saturday, maybe Sunday."

Dean opened his eyes but didn't pull back. He stared at the floor, thinking. Why was he telling him this? It didn't matter if he knew or not. Cas could have gone and come back without Dean knowing. "Okay..?"

"In the time that I'm away," Cas pushed him back and turned his face so they stared at each other in the eye. "You won't be coming." It took Dean a moment to understand, and when he did, he tensed. "Do you have a problem with that, boy?"

Dean swallowed as Cas's look intensified, and the Dom's lips twitched like he was daring him to do something. He had options but it was so much better to follow through with Cas’s plans. He knew it was. "No, sir."

Honestly, Dean didn't like it, but at the same time... it made him excited. Not in the sexual sense, exactly, but in an almost... innocent one. Like when a child was told not to do something yet did it anyways out of curiosity, for the present result more than the end result. It was like Cas was daring him to jerk off or touch himself or do something similar but trusting he wouldn't. Trusting. He was trusting him not to. Fuck. He couldn't break that trust, he wasn't going to be the one to do it, not him... definitely not him.

"What if..." Dean bit his lip, unable to say it. "Nevermind." He could wait just fine, it wasn't hard or long or... shit, mind outta the gutter, Dean.

"... you can't handle it?" Cas finished his sentence, and Dean's face flushed in embarrassment. "Call me then, talk to me and do whatever you need to do."

"What if you're busy?"

"Text first, I'll tell you if I am. If I am, I'll talk you through whatever via text. Okay?"

"Okay." Dean shifted in his lap, a shiver going through him when his ass brushed Cas's pants. "Okay." He repeated, sliding his arms around Cas's abdomen and leaning into him. He sighed quietly when Cas returned the hug, rubbing his hands over Dean's bare back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Kink negotiation, aftercare, spanking, panties, orgasm control**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's pretty short. Sorry, but I hope you like it. :P

By the time Saturday rolled around Dean was ready to burst. Cas had sent him so many pictures and videos of him jerking off or playing with his cum and it was  _frustrating as fuck._ So when Cas texted him at eight-thirty saying he was finally home, Dean immediately called Charlie to ask for a ride. Thank God she was awake and free and came right over to pick him up then dropped him off, this time not even saying a word about it. She did grin and wink at him though.

Dean strolled over to the door and knocked three times, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for Cas to get his ass to the door and open it so he could jump him.

Cas slowly opened the door and smiled at him innocently. "Hello, Dean. What can I do for you?"

"You can start by letting me come," Dean snapped, pushing past him and turning around, crossing his arms and biting his inner cheek as his cock filled slowly at the thought of an orgasm.

"I could," Cas huffed in amusement. "But I won't. Now, have some manners and remove your shoes." The man began walking to the living room then paused. "On second thought, remove everything - and fold it." He winked and walked away.

Dean's jaw loosened and he stared after him, heart beginning to beat faster. He clenched his hands and dropped his arms to his sides. Dean kicked his shoes off and set them by the door, then he removed his jacket and hung it up, and following it was his jeans and shirt and... he hesitated on removing the red panties with trimmed black lace and bows.

Cas wouldn't mind these... would he? It hide his ugly scar from view. No, he wouldn't... he hoped. 

Dean rolled his shoulders and breathed deeply. This was fine. This was good. He was probably going to get to come tonight. He walked into the living room and saw Cas sitting on the couch with his legs spread and an expectant look on his face. His eyes darted down to the panties and a slow smile appeared.

"I said everything, princess," Dean blushed bright at the name, looking away and shifting. "But I'll let it slide this one time - only because you look so adorable in those. Are they new?" He shyly nodded. "Hmm. Come here."

Dean walked over, watching Cas pat his lap, then climbed on, sitting astride his lap. Cas placed his hands on Dean's hips, rubbing his thumbs against the smooth lace. "Where'd you get them?"

"Uh... Charlie- Charlie got them for me," Dean admitted, shifting a little and relaxing, hands on the other man's stomach and chest.

Cas didn't reply, eyes locked on the red fabric. "I'm going to give you an option, Dean," Cas drawled, tilting his head but not raising his eyes. "I can give you a blowjob and you can come..." He looked up then, face smoothing into a blank look. "Or I can fuck you hard and you can come untouched. What would you prefer?"

Dean's mouth dried up, and his licked his dry lips. A blowjob would be fucking spectacular but... but Cas's dick in his ass but he wouldn't be touched and he'd come just like a... shit... like a girl. Dean stared intensely at his hands, clenching the shirt below them and releasing it. "The... s-second option?"

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

"Telling..."

"Good girl," Cas smiled and kissed him before he could even react. Dean groaned, kissing him back enthusiastically. Cas's tongue darted out and licked his lips, asking for entrance - which Dean gladly gave. Cas flicked his tongue over his, teasing and rubbed it against the roof of his mouth. Dean moaned, leaning into the kiss more. But Cas pulled back, both of their breathing a little heavy. "Look at me," Cas breathed, kissing his lips chastely.

Dean reluctantly opened his eyes, unsure as to when he even closed them, and stared into Cas's pupil blown gaze. "Yeah?"

"I want you to kneel on the table," Cas said, pressing something cool into his hand. "And prep yourself." Dean whimpered, looking down at a bottle of strawberry flavored lube. Fuck. Dean slowly slid off his lap and stood straight, half-turning to the table and glancing at Cas. He swallowed then knelt on the hard surface, grimacing slightly.

Dean slid his panties down just enough to reveal his ass then opened the bottle of lube, slicking a few fingers up and bracing one arm on the table, reaching the other behind his body to touch his rim. He groaned softly as his fingers easily slide over his hole, teasingly little jolts of pleasure hitting him right in his groin. He carefully slid in his middle finger, wiggling it around and working himself open.

Dean quickly managed to work another finger inside of himself, ignoring the slight burn that came along and felt around for his prostate, eager for something-Fuck. Found it. Dean moaned and quivered, clenching around his own fingers. He breathed deeply and pulled away from the spot, choosing to begin scissoring his fingers as far from it as he could. He'd never last if he went anywhere near that little bundle of nerves.

He shifted his quickly aching knees and worked a third finger inside, clenching his jaw against the tingle of pain. Dean panted, rocking against his fingers as the sting slowly disappeared. God this was good, so good. He could probably come from this, without even touching his prostate! Dean dropped his forehead onto his forearm and moved his fingers in and out of his body slowly, spreading them carefully and stretching himself more.

"Please?" He panted, wiggling his ass. Cas chuckled and a burst of cool air hit his hole, making him gasp and tremble. "Cas?" He whimpered.

Cas took his wrist and slowly removed his hands, pushing it down to the table. Dean used it to hold himself up weakly and looked back at Cas, watching as he grabbed the bottle of lube and turned it around in his hands. "Are you clean?"

"Y-yes," Dean looked away, cheeks flushing. He'd cleaned himself earlier, thoroughly. Cas made a pleased noise and then the bottle of lube opened and there was a soft squirt before Dean heard the sound of fingers rubbing together, spreading and warming the liquid.

A finger gently pressed into him, easily followed by another and then they were scissoring in and out. Cas's tongue flicked over his rim, and he moaned lowly. The man chuckled before continuing, lapping at his rim and teasing him by slipping inside a little then pulling back. Dean squirmed and pressed back, panting and whining quietly.

"Please," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling his soaked panties cling to him. Cas bit and kissed and sucked on his ass, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him and leaving him a desperate mess of want. "Can, can I come?"

Cas made a noise that sounded a little disappointed. "No, hold it," he said after a minute then slipped his fingers out and stood straight. There was a squirt from behind him before he heard the unmistakable sound if a hand on a dick, stroking. "I'm going to fuck you now, boy."

Dean groaned throatily, arching his back and clenching his cheeks, forehead and hands bracing his body on the table. He felt the head of Cas's cock brush his wet hole and pressed back, trying to slip the head inside of himself. Cas moved with him though, huffing a breathy laugh as he did.

"Patience, princess," he said, rubbing the head over his rim. Dean's toes curled and he whined pitifully, a quiet sob of need escaping him. Cas hummed and finally -  _finally_ \- pressed inside of him, grasping his hips and holding him in place as he slowly slid inside, letting Dean adjust to him.

"Yesss," Dean cried, burning need flashing through him. He felt so full, and complete. Cas's hips pressed against his thighs, keeping them locked together for a few moments. "Plea-please-"

Cas's response was to pull out to the tip and snap his hips forward. Dean cried out, squeezing tightly around him. A soft groan drifted to his ears, then Cas set a brutal pace, slamming into him and purposefully hitting his prostate every three slides. It was enough to bring him to the edge and he started begging, desperate to come and almost unable to hold on. But he had to. He had to! He wasn't going to disappoint Cas.

"Wanna come, boy? Hmm?" Cas moaned, hips snapping rapidly. He was close, Dean knew. He felt the moment the man came, his body tensed and his hips faltered, his cock pulsing and thick, hot ropes of semen coating his insides. "Come," he rasped, the head of his cock pressing into Dean's prostate.

_"Daddy!"_

Dean practically screamed out and was blinded by white and he trembled as he finally came, his panties soaking further with copious amounts of come. Cas wasn't moving anymore but he didn't care, he slumped forward on the table, breathing unsteady. Fuzzy, warm black surrounded him, and he let it take him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Rimming, pet names, orgasm control, panty kink, daddy kink.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please point out any mistakes you see, if you want! <3

Dean groaned, shifting over onto his back and stretching across smooth sheets. He blinked his eyes open, staring dazedly at the ceiling. God, he felt good. So, so good. Dean yawned and looked around, frowning when he didn't spot Cas anywhere.

A scent drifted to his nose and he breathed deeply, a tiny groan escaping when he realized it was the smell of bacon. Dean slowly crawled out of the bed and stretched again, swallowing another yawn. He looked down at his hips, realizing he was no longer wearing the panties and clean. He shrugged and grabbed the black lounge pants placed at the end of the bed and padded out the door as he hopped into them.

Dean skipped down the steps and followed his nose to the kitchen, where Cas was dressed in a robe and blue-white patterned lounge pants and cooking eggs. Cas glanced at him and smiled warmly. "Good morning, Dean," he said, turning the stove off and plating the eggs. He gestured to the two place settings and mugs and plates and sets of cutlery. Cas placed the plate of eggs on the island, and leaned his hands on the edge, watching him with a gleam in his eyes.

"G'morning," Dean replied, watching him right back.

Cas tilted his head, lips twitching. "Are you going to sit down or stand there all day?" He chuckled softly and stepped around the island, pulling one of the chairs out and sitting down. Dean flushed and quickly pulled out the other with a setting before it, sitting down and getting comfortable. "Would you like anything else?"

Dean blinked at him then looked at the table full of pancakes and eggs and bacon and toast and orange juice and sausage. So much food, and Dean couldn't wait to eat it all. He shook his head, watching Cas nod before grabbing the eggs. He took his share then held the plate out to Dean, offering. He took it with a smile that said 'thank you' and dished out his own portion. He didn't like eggs much.

They took the rest of their food then ate quietly, Cas getting up once to fill them both mugs of coffee but neither of them spoke even then. Dean finished moments before Cas and offered to clean up, only to be shot down abruptly. Cas stood and carried their plates to the sink. Then he turned back to Dean and leaned against the counter, looking thoughtful.

"I want you to go to the living room," he said slowly, eyes dark and unreadable. "Watch some TV and wait for me. Okay?" Dean frowned, sliding off the chair and to his feet.

"I don't mind helping, Cas, I ate the foo-"

"Dean," he bristled at the sharp, stern tone. "Don't make me tell you again." Dean clenched his jaw, disliking the tone very much, and spun on his heel with a huff, walking out of the room and heading to the living room. He plopped down on the couch and was suddenly thrown back to the first night he was here, kneeling between Cas's legs and feeling so goddamn relaxed.

He briefly wondered if Cas was angry with him, but he hadn't seemed like he was earlier. Heck, he'd given him breakfast with a smile. Maybe he wanted to talk? But... what about? Had Dean done something to upset him? Was yesterday not good? Was he going to break their contract? Was... What if he didn't like him anymore? Didn't need him.

Dean scoffed, a small humorless smile spreading across his face. Cas probably found a better - unmarred - boy or girl at that thing he went to. And yesterday was probably a goodbye fuck. How kind of him. Dean swallowed bile and pulled his feet up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and not caring just how rude it was to have his feet on someone else's couch.

Who cares, right? It would be the last time he saw it.

God, the boy or girl Cas found probably didn't have any fucked up mental problems or love things that weren't meant for them. They probably obeyed him without hesitation and cared - even if it was pretending - about him in a way that Dean didn't know how to. Damn, he was pathetic; couldn't even pretend to care about a guy that was so utterly sweet to him.

Dean dropped his head between his knees, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Dammit, he wasn't going to be sick, or sad but sick and sad went hand in hand with him so probably both. He was going to be stiff and uncaring when Cas told him he didn't want him anymore. He was going to be unaffected and indifferent and... and...

"Dean?" A cool hand dropped to his hair, and he jumped, lifting his head and locking eyes with a concerned looking Cas. "Are you alright?" Cas gently massaged his head, kneeling on the pillow beside him.

"'m fine," Dean muttered. Jesus, did his voice just crack? He grimaced, looking away and squeezing his arms tighter around his legs.

Cas made a soft disapproving noise and placed a hand on his knees, sliding the one in his hair down to grab his jaw and force his head towards him. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, before Dean swallowed and dropped his gaze to Cas's chest. "Hey, look at me." He reluctantly did so, because even if it was too late, he was going to show Cas he could listen. "What's wrong, sweetheart? What happened?" Or maybe not.

Wait, did Cas just call him 'sweetheart?' Why would he do that? Why would he... Dean blinked, brows furrowing as he eyed Cas. "Are..."  _you going to replace me? Are you going to break off the contract?_ _Are you going to tell me to get out?_ "Are you mad at me?"

Cas frowned, looking terribly confused. "No? Why would I be?"

"You... earlier-"

Realization flickered across Cas's gaze before disappearing. "Did I offend you earlier? When I told you to wait for me here?" Dean shrugged because he really didn't have an answer for that. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just wanted you to sit and watch cartoons or something while I gathered my thoughts."

"Gathered your thoughts?" For what exactly?

Cas smiled and dropped his hands, sitting back and shifting so he was side by side with Dean, facing forward. He patted his lap and turned his head to Dean, inviting him to climb onto his lap. Dean hesitated, gaze flickering from his legs to his face. Cas raised a brow, an impatient look flickering across his eyes. Dean quickly dropped his arms and shifted onto his knees, swinging one leg over Cas's legs.

Cas hummed and grabbed his hips, tugging his body closer and pressing him down, forcing him to relax his weight onto his legs. Dean frowned, cheeks flushing slightly. He was heavy, he knew. He stopped trying to move when Cas spoke though. "While I gathered my thoughts to speak to you about last night."

"Did I do something wrong?" Dean blurted out, eyes widening and his whole face turning red when he realized what he said. Cas lifted a hand, cupping his face and gently stroking his cheek.

"You don't remember, do you?" He smiled softly, but a sparkle entered his gaze. "Let's see then, if I can refresh your memory." Dean swallowed nervously, heart beat picking up. "I fucked you, after you prepared yourself for me," he remembered that. "And I came, and when I told you to, you shouted one very important word. Can you tell me what that word was?"

Dean swallowed again, Cas's hand sliding from his hip to his crotch and gently dragging his fingers over his clothed cock. "Uhm..." Dean thought back, remembering Cas fucking him - because that felt too great to ever forget about - and then he remembered when he said he could come and then Dean did and he said 'daddy' and then he blacked out and-Oh.  _Oh._

Dean tensed and jerked back, but Cas was either very fast or was expecting it, because he suddenly wrapped an arm around his waist and another around his shoulders and tugged him flush against him. "Do you remember now?" He whispered in his ear, lips sliding from the shell to just behind his ear.

Dean bit back a whimper at the soft caress of lips and nodded, knowing he could feel it. Cas chuckled, and Dean felt the way it rumbled from the deepest parts of his chest and up his throat and past his lips.

Jesus, Cas was going to kick him out for his sick kink. Dean had never made the mistake of blurting it out with anyone else, so how come now? How come with the only man that had ever managed to steal his breath away? The only one that cared about his well being. Although, it probably was a good thing that it was Cas and not someone else - like Alastair.

"Cas- I, uh-"

Cas's teeth gave the tender flesh behind his ear a sharp, stinging bite, and Dean inhaled sharply, shivering as a slow, wet stroke of his tongue followed it. "No, my sweet boy. You don't get to call me Cas right now." Sweet boy? Oh, Lord, help him. "Do you know what you get to call me though, little one?"

"D-daddy?" Dean dared to say it, even if it came out soft and small sounding.

Cas hummed appreciatively, kissing below his earlobe. "Yes, sweetie.  _Daddy._ "

"Cas, I-" Cas  _growled,_ he really growled, and slapped Dean's ass, right in the middle and over his hole. Dean moaned, dropping his forehead down against Cas's shoulder. "Daddy." Even though he meant to say it confidently and quick - and he really, really did, it came out in a breathy, drawn out, little whimper.

"My good little boy," Dean absently realized he was trembling, but Cas didn't seem worried. He was gently rubbing the bare skin of Dean's back, as if to soothe him and it was wonderful - worked wonders too. "I'm so proud of you." But why? He didn't do anything. "Would you like a reward for being so good?"

"Fuck, yes," Dean gasped, clutching Cas's robe tightly between his hands.

Cas clucked his tongue and slapped his ass again. "Good little boys don't use such language."

"'m sorry, daddy, didn't mean it," Dean whimpered, nuzzling his face into Cas's neck and breathing deeply. God, he was slipping into something, and into what, he had no idea. He couldn't believe this was happening. But it had to be right? Or maybe this was a dream. If it was, it was one hell of a vivid dream.

Cas hummed. "I'll let it slide, but just this once. Now, what would my sweet little boy like?" This was wrong on so many levels and dammit, he wanted more. Dean whined in response and pressed his hips forward, trying to silently convey that he just wanted Cas to touch him. Or fuck him raw. Or both. Both sounded so much better. "You want daddy to touch your little cock? Is that it?" Dean's face burned but he nodded anyways. His cock wasn't small, they both knew, but it was smaller than Cas's and so to Cas, it was small, and that made it true in a way.

Dean's cock pulsed, rubbing against the rough pants as he moved his hips in small, circular motions, seeking friction. His breath came in quiet pants, and he felt Cas smile against his neck. One of Cas's hands slid over to his groin and two fingers began to gently stroke over the top of his clothed dick, teasing him terribly and relieving him of built pressure at the same time.

"I need to hear some words here, sweetie," Cas urged gently, slowly dragging his teeth over his neck, sending shudders through him.

"Please... please touch me, daddy," Dean said quickly, biting his lip as a heaviness appeared in his chest.

"Speak slowly, little one," Cas murmured against his ear, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue over the shell. Dean moaned, squeezing his eyes before opening them and staring down at Cas's robe.

"Please touch me, daddy," he repeated, slowly this time. The heaviness disappeared, replaced by warmth, pure and fulfilling warmth when Cas made a noise of approval. Cas's hands moved away from his cock and back, moving over to the backs of his thighs and slowly stroking up and down, fingers brushing his ass but never actually going over it. And then they were gone, placed on either side of Dean's legs, fingers tapping the leather of the couch.

Cas's breath was hot and heavy against his ear, making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The man chuckled, a blow of hot air against his saliva wet ear, and Dean groaned, a tremble ripping through him. "Beg."

Dean didn't even think, it just spilled out of him in a rush. "Please, daddy, please! Pretty please! Please touch me! I'll be good, I'll be good. Please touch me, daddy. I need- need you, daddy," he whined and a soft, sobbing noise escaped him. Even if begging was demeaning, he didn't care, because Cas seemed to love it.

Cas purred quietly and his hands grabbed his hips. "Hold on, baby." Dean slipped his arms around Cas's shoulders and neck as he shifted to stand, and his legs wrapped around his waist. Fuck, Cas was strong. Dean could feel his hard muscles as he held him, hands under his ass. The new position made their cocks brush and even through two layers of fabric, Dean could feel how hard and hot Cas was.

Cas nudged his head back and kissed him, all slick tongue and sharp teeth, and it made him melt. Cas chuckled and he started walking, kissing him feverously as he strolled across the floor and carried him up the stairs and to his bedroom. Cas loosened his grip on him and threw him onto the unmade bed, smiling darkly as he bounced.

Dean moaned, squirming up the sheets until his head was on a pillow. He grabbed onto the waistband of the lounge pants and pushed them down his legs, tossing them to the side. Dean spread his legs, bending his knees and wiggling his hips a little. He looked down at himself for a brief moment, watching - and feeling - his cock twitch against his stomach and leak precum.

Cas groaned softly, and Dean looked back up, licking his lips when he realized Cas was touching himself. The man was palming his cock through his pants and staring at Dean's ass... or cock... or both. Who cares. He was staring between his legs and it made him even more aroused. "Daddy," Dean breathed, turning desperate eyes to Cas.

"Fuck." His daddy cursed quietly and practically ripped his robe off, but let his pants on, and crawled onto the bed, bracing his body above Dean and fixing himself between his legs. He rocked his hips and Dean threw his head back, a long, low moan bursting from him. Cas attacked his exposed neck with licks and kisses, sucking gently but not enough to leave a mark. Mark. He wanted marks. He wanted to know he belonged to Cas.

Wait a minute. Did Dean just call Cas his daddy? Mother of fuck, he did. He was his daddy. Cas was his daddy. His daddy. Holy crap, that was good.

Dean placed his hands on Cas's chest, slowly dragging his hands down to the man's hips, feeling the muscles under his skin. "Please, daddy," Dean bucked, moaning. Cas bit down on the fleshy muscle that connected his shoulder to his neck, and Dean cried out, hips jerking only to be pressed down roughly with Cas's own, their cocks pinned against each other.

Dean trembled, unable to move his hips. He settled for whining in Cas's ear, and it earned him a drag of teeth from his collarbone to his nipples. "Daddy's enjoying himself, sweetie," Cas murmured, gaze flickering up. "Am I going to have to punish you for being a greedy boy or are you going to be a good, patient boy and let daddy have some fun?"

"No, no, no, I'll be good, daddy, promise," Dean bit his lip, resisting the urge to pout. Cas grinned wolfishly, nodding.

"Good boy," he crooned, lowering his head and wrapping his lips around Dean's left nipple, sucking gently. A hand crept up his side and a blunt fingernail scraped over his neglected right nipple.

"Ahhh," Dean moaned loudly and arched, eyes rolling back. He squirmed underneath him, desperate. "Feels-feels good, da _-ah-_ ddy," Cas mercilessly sucked and licked and scraped his teeth over his left nipple, all the while rolling his other other between his fingers and flicking his nail over the tip gently.

God, it was hot trapped between the sheets and Cas's unnaturally warm body. He was sweaty and horny and frustrated and needy. Dean desperately bucked his hips, whimpering quietly as Cas ignoring him and finally,  _finally,_  stopped playing with his left nipple, but then he kissed his way to his right one and started up all over again. Dean wrapped his legs around Cas's waist and tugged him closer. Cas's pants rubbed against his cock roughly and it drew a gasping moan from him.

Cas sighed, disappointed. He pulled away, glaring down at Dean. "You're being a very naughty boy, Dean," he said, shaking his head and sitting up, forcing Dean to loosen his legs. "I was enjoying myself over there, you know."

"I'm sorry," Dean whined yet he didn't stop the shifty movements from his hips. Cas growled and pinned said hips down to the bed, forcing him to remain still.

Fuck.

Cas's eyes flashed darkly.

Double fuck.

"No."

Triple fuck.

Cas took his hands and placed them palm down on the sheets, then he grabbed his legs and placed them on the bed, spread wide. He crawled back until he could drop his legs to the floor and straighten. "Do not move." It took all of Dean's strength not to move, not to tremble or twitch. And it was worth it, because after a while of staring at him, Cas smiled approvingly and stepped away from the bed, walking into the bathroom. A soft noise escaped before he could stop it. "Hush, now, I'll be back."

When?

_Please, don't go. Don't leave me here. Come back. Daddy, please. Please don't leave me. Please, please, please..._

Cas walked back into the room, holding a hairbrush and sporting a wicked grin. Dean let out a moan the moment he realized what it was for. "Up." Dean scrambled up onto his knees, shaking with anticipation. "Good boy." He moaned again, eyes falling shut. He heard a chuckle but didn't bother opening his eyes to see the shine that was no doubt in Cas's eyes. "Open your eyes." Dean reluctantly obeyed.

Cas sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap, looking back at Dean with an expectant expression. Dean crawled over to him and lay his body over Cas's thighs, squirming until his cock fell between the man's legs and then relaxing. Cas's hand stroked his cheeks, gently grabbing and squeezing them for short periods.

"Two sets of twenty, Dean," Cas said softly. "Count them." And then he began.

Slap to his right cheek.

"One, daddy."

Slap to his left cheek.

"Two, daddy."

Slap to his right cheek.

"Three, daddy."

Slap to his left cheek.

"Four, daddy."

Cas slapped each cheek hard and fast, briefly pausing between hits to let him say the right number out loud. Dean couldn't help squirming uncomfortably after he reached ten. By the time they reached twenty, Dean was trying to rut against his thigh and get away at the same time. Cas rubbed his warm and somewhat stinging cheeks, gentle and soothing. "You okay, little one?"

"Yeah," he said softly, closing his eyes and relaxing, trying to focus on his breathing. Cas stroked his thighs as well, his free hand coming up to rest on his back, rubbing gently. The hand on his backside disappeared then something cool and hard rubbed over his ass.

The brush.

Slap.

"Twenty-one, daddy."

"No, baby, start over."

"One, daddy?" Cash hummed in response and slapped him again. "Two, daddy."

Slap.

"Three, daddy," Dean whimpered, clenching his ass.

"Stay still," Cas clucked his tongue and pressed his hand into his lower back, warning him.

Slap.

"Three, daddy," Dean gasped, rocking his hips lightly.

By five, Dean was full on humping against Cas's leg.

By ten, he was struggling to not squirm much.

By fifteen he was near tears.

By twenty, he was full on crying.

Cas set the brush aside and gathered him up in his arms, letting him curl into his body and bury his face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry, daddy," he cried, sniffing quietly and hugging him as tight as he could.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. Daddy forgives you," Cas murmured, stroking his hair and back. "You took that so well, honey. Now daddy has a choice for you. Daddy can either give you a nice little blowjob and you can orgasm and then fuck your pliant little body until you come again, or you can come twice on daddy's cock alone. Which would you like, sweetie?"

Dean moaned, nipping at Cas's neck. "First," he muttered, licking at the other's jawline.

"Lay on the bed." Cas nudged him towards it and he obeyed, crawling on top and gingerly laying on his back. Cas opened the top drawer to the right of the bed and dug around before pulling out a white bottle. Then he closed the drawer and opened the bottom one, pulling out a bottle of lube. He took both bottles and crawled between Dean's legs, nudging them far apart. "I'm not going to use much of this," he waved the white bottle around, "But I will but using some."

"What is that?" He couldn't see the label when the bottle was turned away. Cas smirked and slowly turned the bottle around, letting him see the label. "Fuck, no." Dean sat up and flinched as his ass slid across the bed. He was so not letting him use Icy Hot.

"Trust me, Dean." Cas held up the other bottle. "This is a cooling lube. Once it starts burning, I'll use this. Okay?"

"No." Dean was definitely not using Icy Hot. There was no fucking way he was trusting anyone else to use that shit on him again. Last time Alastair had used a fuckton of it on his dick and balls and asshole and had left him burning for hours, it wasn't arousing and it wasn't pleasurable, it was just pure agony. He swallowed, feeling sick.

Cas seemed disappointed, dropping his hands to his lap. "It'll be fun, Dean. I promis-"

"I said no, okay! Impala!"

Both of them froze.

Dean because he was terrified that he blurted out his safeword and just about yelled at Cas, and Cas because he was probably shocked. Cas cleared his throat and sat back. "Okay, Dean," he said gently. "We won't use it." Dean didn't look at him as he got up from the bed and walked back to the drawer. He put the items back in their drawer and closed it.

Great job, Dean. Now you don't get to have sex. Or a fucking blowjob. Smart fucking move. Couldn't just man up and take it.

Dean risked a glance at Cas's face, and found it relatively blank of emotion. He flinched and looked away again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and quickly. "We can use it. I just... not a lot. Okay? Is that okay?"

"No, Dean. It's not. We're not going to use it." Cas slid between his legs again and carefully set his hands on Dean's thighs. "Shh, it's okay. We're not using it, baby." Cas's hands were shaking. Dean looked down at them and frowned. No, his hands weren't shaking. Dean's thighs were. "Hey, shh, look at me, honey." One of those hands lifted up and cupped his face, thumb softly brushing across his cheekbone.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes and squeezing them. He was so stupid. He ruined the whole mood and he was being a little bitch about this. God, he could do it. He could do it. Cas was someone he could trust, he wouldn't hurt him past what he could handle. He wouldn't. He shivered, suddenly feeling cold.

The hand on his thigh slid to his hip and his thumb began to make small circles on his flesh. "I'm going to take a bath, Dean. Would you like to join me?" Dean whimpered, biting his lip. He wanted to sit in a tub with Cas wrapped around him, he did, but he didn't deserve that. He was a little shit and he ruined this moment and Cas was probably secretly mad at him. "Please join me?"

"Okay," he didn't move, though, as Cas pulled away and stood up. Cas held his hand out and he slowly took it, letting himself be pulled up and off the bed. Cas led him into the bathroom and drew the bath before turning to him and wrapping his arms around him. He pressed little kisses to his ear and neck, licking at his skin occasionally.

"Daddy's here, baby," he whispered, kissing his ear. "What do you need?" One hand slid up Dean's back and into his hair, massaging and caressing his scalp gently.

He whimpered, rubbing his nose against Cas's shoulder. "I want you to fu-" he paused, remembering Cas saying earlier that he shouldn't swear. "Wanna have sex with you, daddy."

Cas chuckled, a breathy sound that puffed warm air into his ear. "After our bath." He stepped away and offed the tap, sticking his hand into the hotter and nodding to himself. "Come here." He helped him into the bath then climbed in after him, sliding down and sitting with his back against the side and Dean tucked between his legs and against his chest, arms wrapped around him. "Don't sleep, okay?"

"Shhhh," Dean nuzzled his neck, closing his eyes. Cas huffed in amusement and made a circular motions on his hip under the water, warming him in a way the water could not. "Sleep now, sex later, right, daddy? That's what you said."

"No, baby, I said bath now, sex later," Cas snorted, poking his side.

"Bath means sleep," Dean said.

Cas sighed, shaking his head. "Ten minutes. That's it."

Dean grinned, kissing his neck and relaxing. He was going to sleep for more than ten minutes, and they both knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Pet names, spanking, safewording, care, daddy kink, begging, praise kink(?).**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeep. Hi! Enjoy~ :P
> 
> Also, there are some insults (mainly homophobic [that include transgender peoples] in nature but also insults towards women) so look out and know that I don't feel that way about any of it. I love everyone, I swear I do. Everyone's my babe until they're a douche.
> 
> Please point out any mistakes! <3 Love you guys.

Monday rolled around before Dean knew it, and he was waking up alone at six in the morning courtesy of annoying texts from Charlie. He hopped into his clothing and grabbed whatever was his from the nightstand closest to him. He headed downstairs where he saw the kitchen light on and headed into the room.

Cas had his elbows on the counter and was cradling a dorky yellow bee mug in his hands, lips resting on the edge of the mug and his eyes closed. He was already dressed too, in a dark grey suit, blazer tossed over the back of one of the island chairs. Monday, right, Cas had work. Dean shuffled nervously and cleared his throat.

Cas blinked his eyes open and looked at him. He lowered his hands and lifted his head, straightening his body and smiling warmly at him, if a little tiredly. "Good morning, Dean," he said, setting his mug on the counter and walking around the island. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his temple.

"'Morning, Cas," Dean pulled away a little and leaned their faces closer, pressing their lips together hesitantly in a chaste kiss. He pulled back before it could get deep and smirked at Cas's disappointed look. "Didn't brush yet," he muttered, head turned away a little.

"Ah," Cas cupped the back of his head with one hand and dove forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that shocked him enough to make him inhale sharply and part his lips. Cas's tongue slipped out and in the little space between his lips, sliding further inside and flicking Dean's own tongue. He pulled back and smiled. "I don't care."

"I do," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes but smiling.

"But I don't," Cas kissed the corner of his mouth and trailed little butterfly kisses down his jaw and neck and to his shoulder, his nose gently brushing over his trapezius.

Dean slid his arms around Cas's waist and lowered his hands, slipping them over the other man's ass. "Perky," he muttered, chuckling and kissing Cas's jaw. Dean normally wouldn't have dared act like this so soon in a relationship, or even with another person at all, but Cas was so... different.

Cas's answering laugh was muffled by Dean's shoulder, but the man's own shoulders shook enough to make it seem like it was boisterous. Dean inhaled deeply when Cas grabbed his ass, squeezing tightly. "Yours is much perkier than mine will ever be," he said, pulling back and kissing Dean's cheek. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, please," Dean let go of Cas and watched him grab a plain black mug from a cupboard and fill it with coffee. He pulled out a jar of sugar from another cupboard and took a teaspoon from a drawer, setting all three things on the island for Dean. Dean added two teaspoons of sugar and mixed it, leaning down and taking a sip to make sure it was nice. It was.

He sat down on one of the chairs and leaned his elbow on the counter, using his fist as a cushion for his cheek. Cas returned to his spot and drank from his coffee. Both of them stared at the other silently, each with an intense gaze. Cas hummed and broke the gaze to refill his cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar to it. "Would you like something to eat, sweetheart?"

Dean smiled at the endearment, his chest warming. "Oatmeal is okay." Cas's lips twitched but he nodded, otherwise remaining serious.

"One bowl of oatmeal coming right up," he winked and pushed himself off the counter. Dean watched, feeling a little bad he wasn't helping, as Cas moved around and grabbed the instant oatmeal and milk and honey and cinnamon spice.

"Do you prefer milk or water?"

"Milk. Just, uh, make it like how you did yours," Dean said, flushing when Cas shot him an amused glance. Cas quickly made them both oatmeal, cutting up fruit and grabbing bowls. He poured them both an equal amount and dropped banana and strawberry on top. He took two spoons from the drawer and placed a spoon and a bowl in front of Dean.

"More coffee?" Dean shook his head, looking down at his still full cup. He was a little surprised he hadn't drank it already, but he didn't really feel the need - even if the stuff was delicious.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean picked up his spoon and immediately dug into the creamy oatmeal, moaning. "Fuck, this is good."

"Thank you," Cas muttered, taking a seat beside him and also starting to eat. "Do you have anywhere to be today?"

"I was, uh, going to go see my grandpa," Dean said, shooting Cas a half-smile.

Cas nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "That's good. Maybe you should ask him about 'Baby.' See if he'll give it to you." Dean choked on a laugh when Cas actually made quotations while saying baby. Friggin' dork.

"Yeah, uh, maybe," Dean pressed his lips into a flat line, keeping his gaze on his oatmeal and struggling not to laugh.

"Do you need a ride?" Cas went on, watching him from the corner of his eyes.

"It might make you late for work," Dean said, biting his lip as he thought of riding across town with Cas with a cock ring on and a vibrator up his ass. Fuck, no. No. Definitely not. Dean squirmed in his chair and looked down.

"I only start at nine," Cas said, turning to him fully. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Dean bit his inner cheek, trying not to think about Cas randomly turning the vibrator on. Jesus, he was going to be with his grandpa. His  _grandpa._ Get with the fucking game, little Dean. Stay the fuck down.

"What are you thinking about, sweetie?" Oh fuck. Cas's voice was right by his ear and sounded so wicked. And the endearment just topped it all off.

"Nothing," Dean gulped, pulling away with flushed cheeks. "We should... finish eating."

"Hmm," Cas leaned away and relaxed in his seat, eyeing Dean from head to toe, gaze lingering on his crotch. "You know, I don't like lying, little one."

"I'm sorry," Dean muttered, fidgeting. This was so not how he saw the morning going. Not that he minded, of course.

"Tell me what got you so aroused, now."

Dean flinched a little at the stern tone, and folded his hands in his lap, flicking his index against the skin on the side of his nail. "Uhm," Dean smacked himself mentally. He shouldn't be embarrassed about this. Seriously. After all the shit they'd done already. "Just you... and the vibrator... and a, uh, cock ring."

"Ah," Cas laughed. "Now I see." Cas ate the last few bites of his oatmeal and stood, placing the bowl in the sink with some water. "Finish your breakfast, I'll be back." And with that, he strolled from the room.

Well fuck. Dean was screwed. He looked down at this bowl of oatmeal, only partly done and sighed. He quickly shoveled the food in his mouth, chewing only as much as he needed. He wondered what Cas was doing... or getting. Fuck, he whimpered, shifting uncomfortably. He swallowed the last bite of food and set his spoon in the bowl, pushing it away and leaning his elbows on the granite counter.

Dean jumped when lips brushed his ear, before a voice whispered, "Daddy has a little present for you, baby boy." Dean moaned, squirming and pulled away, turning to the side so he could see Cas. The man smiled at him deviously, hands behind his back. "Do you remember that little vibrator we played with a while ago?"

"Y-yeah?" Oh, God. He was going to make him wear it. Fuck, fuck. His cock jumped at the thought, straining against his zipper painfully.

"I got another one," Cas continued, slowly pulling his right hand from behind his back. He held a thick and long black vibrator in hand, a grin appearing. Dean swallowed, that fucking vibrator was bigger than Cas. "Up."

Dean jumped to his feet, heart beating faster. "Pull your pants down to your knees, turn around and bend over the counter. Oh, and close your eyes." Dean obeyed quickly, pushing his pants to his knees and turning around, leaning over the counter with his eyes closed. "Good boy," Cas cooed as he set things down on the counter beside Dean. He wished he could look and see what they were besides the vibrator and probably lube - he hoped there was lube.

"Daddy," Dean gasped when he felt his ass cheeks being spread apart. Cool air brushed over his puckered hole and he moaned. "Please, daddy." Cas hummed behind him then Dean felt something impossibly wet and strong and a little rough flick over his hole. "Oh, fuck," he sobbed, dropping his head to the counter.

Cas chuckled behind him, his hot breath puffing over Dean's hole. "What did I tell you about swearing, little one?" Dean whimpered, squeezing his eyes and clawing at the table. An open hand slapped his ass hard and he jumped.

"N-not to," he stuttered, legs shaking a little.

"Exactly. Then why did you swear?"

"''m s'rry," Dean gasped as Cas licked him again. "Please, daddy!"

"Please what, boy?"

"Please," Dean mewled when his daddy blew cool air against his wet hole. "P-please eat my ass, daddy." Cas hummed thoughtfully, and moments later, his tongue pressed against his perineum and slowly licked up his crack, stopping at the top. That was all the warning he got before Cas was licking and sucking at his hole and biting at the sensitive skin between his cheeks.

"A-ah-h, d-daddy."

Cas moaned in response, squeezing his ass tightly. Downright filthy slurping noises drifted to Dean's ears and made him whine, his hole fluttering as he tried to clench his ass. Cas pulled back and his hands left Dean's ass for a moment, but his tongue didn't stop licking at his hole. Dean heard a click and a slick sound before Cas's finger as nudging against his hole, coated in lube. It slipped in easily and after a moment, another finger joined it.

Cas pulled away, chuckling. "Still so loose from last night, huh baby?" Dean mewled, biting his lip and nodding, wondering if Cas could even see it. Cas crooked his fingers and they scraped against Dean's prostate before they pressed against it hard.

"O-oh fu-uh-udge!" Dean cried out, barely managing to change the swear word.

Cas laughed, pressing a wet kiss to his ass as a reward. "Nice save, little boy," he huffed, moving his fingers from Dean's prostate and focusing on stretching him. A third finger slipped in with minimal burn, joining the last two in stretching him wide and full. The fingers pulled out to the tip and Cas added more lube, and then a fourth finger joined the others, fucking into Dean slowly and deeply.

"Daddy," he mewled, pressing back and panting. "So good- please-"

"No, honey, not now," Cas replied. "I'll fuck you tonight though, long and hard." Dean whimpered, clenching around his daddy's fingers. "Mm. I promise, baby."

The fingers slipped from his hole with a pop and a slick slide and Dean blushed at the sound. Cas hummed behind him and a click sounded followed by another. Was he turning it on already? But Dean didn't hear a buzz, or anything to indicate it was on other than the clicks. Dean felt the cool head of the vibrator press against his hole - not even vibrating - and held his breath, trying to stay relaxed as it pressed in and stretched him with an almost hard burn.

"Shit, shit! Wait! Fucking hell," Dean lifted his head but didn't open his eyes. Cas froze and a hand appeared on his lower back, gently rubbing.

"Are you okay, Dean?" he asked softly. Dean shook his head and dropped it back onto the table, breathing deeply and relaxing around the head of the vibrator.

"Just... go slow?"

"Of course," Cas pressed a kiss to his lower back, his stubble brushing against his skin roughly and sending a shiver up Dean's spine. The vibrator was painfully slowly pushed in, and although it hurt, it felt just as good. Dean moaned and shifted his feet, spreading them wider. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah," Dean licked his lips, breathing slowly and deeply. This was alright. Just needed to take it slow. Take it slow and not think about the bat Alastair had once practically shoved up his ass. That shit had taken weeks to heal and sometimes, he still didn't feel quite right. He shuddered in disgust, and Cas's hand pressed firmly into his back, bringing him away from the memory and back to the present. 

The vibrator slipped in the rest of the way with minimal problem, stretching Dean and stroking his sensitive inside. "Stand up for me, baby?" Dean slowly pushed himself up, moaning as the angle changed and the vibrator pressed against his prostate. He clenched around the thickness, groaning in delight. "You like it?"

"Yeah," Dean gasped. "Th-thank you, daddy," he muttered, shifting on his feet and wanting to turn around and kiss Cas. His daddy wrapped his arms around his abdomen and kissed his neck gently, smiling against the sensitive skin behind his ear. His arms slipped down until his hand could grab Dean's dick and stroke it gently.

Dean moaned, throwing his head back against his daddy's shoulder and sighing happily. He whined when the hand disappeared for a moment, only to return a couple seconds later. "Turn around, little one," Cas murmured in his ear, nipping the shell gently. Dean turned in his arms, leaning back against the table. "You can open your eyes."

He did, blinking at the change of light. He squinted down at Cas's hands and inhaled sharply at the sight of a [cock ring](http://early2bedshop.com/crazy-8-cockring.html); the cock ring was shaped like an eight, with one circle larger than the other, and looked like it was black plastic. "Daddy?" He asked, biting his lip and looking at Cas through his lashes.

Cas smirked and didn't reply, kneeling and easily slipping his cock and balls into the two rings, the larger one used for his balls. Dean moaned at the tightness, his cock twitching. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed, watching his cock for a moment. "'t's good."

"Take your pants off."

Dean pushed them down his legs further and dropped them on the chair to his right. Cas reached past Dean to the table and pulled his hand back, holding a pair of black panties with tiny little white bows. "Oh," Dean swallowed, eyes locking on the little black underwear. Cas chuckled and knelt, holding the panties for Dean to step into. He did and Cas pulled them up his legs, adjusting his hard cock so it was tucked between his legs in the panties.

"Are you alright, baby?" Cas asked, cupping his cheek and brushing his thumb against Dean's cheekbone. "Cock ring's not too bad, is it?" Dean shook his head, smiling at his daddy.

"Thank you," he muttered almost shyly, looking down at his hips. Cas let out a laugh that sounded more like a giggle and kissed his head, nose brushing into his hair. Cas stepped away and walked to the sink, washing his hands thoroughly.

"Put your pants on, sweetie," Cas huffed in amusement. Dean bit his lip and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on and buttoning them. "Now, Dean, we have to talk about this a little bit."

"Er... okay?" Dean blinked in confusion, frowning at Cas.

"Sit," Cas said as he walked over and took one of the seats. Dean sat opposite him, facing him with the table to his left and the back of the chair to his right. "If at all today you feel it's too much, either call or text me the word 'Red'. I say that word because your safeword is longer than it and 'red' makes for an easy text. You also have the option of removing it yourself. The vibrator has a switch at the end of it to turn it off. It overrides my remote and cuts off the connection with it. Do you understand this, Dean?"

His remote. Motherfucker was going to taunt him all day.

"Yes, Cas," Dean muttered, feeling touched that Cas cared so much about him and if he was okay.

"If you need to take the cock ring off and come, go ahead. Just please inform me so I can stop using the vibrator. I don't want you uncomfortable." Cas reached out and ran a hand through his hair, blunt nails gently scraping his scalp. "I know I'm not going to be there for you to stay grounded, but I would appreciate it if you could text me every little while so that I know you're doing okay. If you're not okay then tell me, please. I don't want you hurting."

"Okay, Cas."

"Another thing, the vibrator is absolutely silent, even on the highest setting, so don't worry about noise. No one's going to pick up on it unless they understand your reaction, or notice something," Cas smirked and glanced down between his legs before looking him in the eye again. Dean huffed, rolling his eyes a little. "Come here."

Dean stood and slipped between Cas's legs, wrapping his arms around him and let the other man draw him in for a deep kiss. He moaned at the feel of his chapped lips, taking a comfort in the simple act. "Cas?"

"Mm?" Cas kissed the corner of his mouth and nuzzled his cheek tenderly.

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?"

Cas pulled away, frowning. "Sadly, no. I would have offered you it if I did," he sighed, leaning back a little more. "You can use mine if you wish, I don't mind."

"It's okay." Dean hummed. "Do you, uh, think you could take me home? I'd like to change and freshen up and all that."

"Of course." Cas smiled and pushed Dean back lightly, standing and grabbing his blazer from one of the chairs. "Come on, I'll take you now and then drop you off where you have to meet your grandfather."

"Uh, right..." Dean bit his lip, regretting asking because he just knew his dad was going to be home and probably drunk or hungover. "You don't... have to."

"I insist," Cas was already walking out of the room and towards the garage door. Dammit.

Dean sighed and followed, he picked up his shoes and jacket from the front door and walked to the garage door, shoving his shoes on and pulling his jacket on and heading out after Cas. He got in Cas's car, watching as the man turned it on and opened the garage door. He let it idle for a moment then pulled out of the garage, backing out onto the driveway and clicking the button for the garage door.

"Where do you live?" Cas asked, turning to look at Dean. He needed a direction to know which was to turn.

"Uhm," Dean licked his lips. "1503 Barrington Ave." He picked at the inner seam of his jeans, chewing his inner cheek.

"Okay," Cas said, voice holding absolutely no judgement. Dean glanced at him to see a relatively blank expression. Cas backed out and heading down the street, turning left and continuing until he joined morning traffic.

"So, uh, you start at nine, right?" Dean asked, feeling nervous for reasons he didn't really know.

"Yes, thankfully," Cas shot him a smile, turning the corner.

"You were up pretty early for a nine o'clock start," Dean commented, watching Cas because it was so much better than watching traffic. He frowned at the way Cas tensed slightly, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white and his face blanked of all emotion, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Yes, well, I couldn't sleep," Cas said in a monotone, jaw muscles working as he clenched and unclenched it.

"Oh," Dean muttered, brows furrowing lightly. "Nightmares?"

Cas cleared his throat, "Something like that."

"What was it about? It's good to talk about them. Helps yo-"

"Dean," Cas interrupted, voice hard and cold. "Please drop it?" Dean froze, eyes Cas again and noticing that his eyes looked a little faraway and misty.

"Yeah... sure," Dean swallowed. "What do you work as exactly?"

"I'm an accountant," Cas said in a warmer tone, relaxing at the change of conversation and shooting Dean a half-smile that looked grateful.

"Oh, wow," Dean blinked and looked out the front window. "I thought you were a therapist or something."

"No, my family has their own law firm. I didn't wish to be a lawyer, so I became an accountant."

"Nice," Dean said, leaning his head against the window. Silence was his only answer, and it stayed quiet for a while before Cas sighed and a hand touched Dean's thigh.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to be cross with you," Cas said softly. "I didn't sleep well last night and I-"

"It's okay, Cas," Dean said, grasping Cas's hand with his own. "I get it, I do."

"Thank you," Cas muttered, bringing Dean's hand closer and kisses the back of it before letting go to turn onto Barrington. "Which one is yours exactly?"

"Uh," Dean looked around and pointed at the end of the street. "Last house on the right." Cas drove all the way to the end and slowly on the curb, right in front of the front door. He put the car in park and leaned back, looking at Dean with a smile. "You're not mad, are you?"

"'course not," Dean leaned over and pressed a kiss to Cas's lips, sighing happily when he returned it.

"Thank you."

"Come on," Dean muttered, feeling his stomach begin to turn. "Let's go inside."

Cas turned the car off and they both stepped out of the car, shutting the door and heading up the grass to the house after Cas locked it. Dean unlocked the front door and stepped inside, quietly kicking his shoes off and shutting the door, locking it. He hung up his coat and Cas's and watched Cas remove his shoes.

"Let's just... go upstairs?" Dean said quietly - almost whispering, smiling hesitantly at the other man. Cas nodded and placed a hand on Dean's back, following him up the stairs. They made it all the way to the top before the old wood creaked loudly and Dean froze, heart stopping its beat and throat tightening. 

"Dean!" A voice yelled from downstairs. Dean flinched and glanced at Cas, who looked down the stairs curiously and sharply.

"Y-yeah, dad?"

"Where the fuck have you been? I'm starving!" Glass bottles clattered together, falling over and bouncing a little on the wooden floor.

Dean felt Cas's gaze on him but didn't look, keeping his eyes on the floor. "It... Gimme a minute, dad," Dean said, clenching his hands.

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Dean grabbed Cas's hand and led him to his bedroom, shutting the door and leaning against it. Fucking perfect. His dad really knew how to ruin everything. Dean swallowed, trying not to throw up the oatmeal from earlier and blinked rapidly. Cas was going to leave him now. Him and his drunk ass dad.

"Dean?" Dean kept his eyes trained on his feet, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, and feeling a tear slid down his cheek. "Hey, don't cry, sweetie," Cas murmured softly and he gently wiped away the tear, pulling Dean closer and wrapping his arms around him. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here."

Dean whimpered, gripping the man tightly, and sniffing. "Please don't leave me. I'm sorry." Cas inhaled sharply at his words, his arms tightening around him.

"Dean, I-" he cut himself off, making a noise that sounded like anger and disgust. "I'm not leaving, little one. I swear." He cupped Dean's face and pulled back a little, making him look Cas in the eye. "I'm not leaving, okay? Definitely not over him."

"Okay." Dean muttered. He felt stupid now. Cas was so nice to him, so sweet and all Dean did was show him his shitty problems and it wasn't fair.

"Why don't you change, huh?" Cas leaned his face into Dean's neck, kissing the soft flesh connecting his neck and shoulder. "I'll be right here." Dean nodded and pulled away, walking around his crappy and small room and grabbing some clean clothes to wear. He hesitated only a moment before removing his old clothes and tossing them in the hamper by the door, and pulling on his clean set. He had left the panties on, but he put a pair of boxers on over them just in case his pants slipped down or his shirt rode up.

His erection was gone completely, not that he really noticed or cared. He looked at Cas then pointed at the door. Cas nodded and walked over to Dean's bed, sitting down on the edge and watching him as he left the room.

Dean closed the door behind himself and walked into the bathroom, quickly taking a leak and washing his hands before brushing his teeth and washing his face. He stared at his hair for a moment then shrugged and decided to leave it alone. He returned to his room, shutting the door and locking it behind himself. Cas was still sitting in the same spot and looked over at him with a grin.

He lifted his arms, beckoning Dean closer. Dean walked over and carefully sat in his lap, curling up with his side against Cas's chest and leaning his head on his shoulder. Cas held him tightly, one hand sliding into his hair and stroking his scalp. Dean sighed and relaxed, eyes closing.

"Sorry about him," Dean muttered, feeling sleepy from the attention to his head. "He's just..." He paused, then sighed. "He's a drunk." It was the truth, and the most he'd probably ever said concerning his dad.

"It's alright," Cas kissed his forehead. "As long as he doesn't hurt you, I don't care."

"Yeah, right," Dean snorted, remembering all the times his dad had hit him. Cas's grip tightened on him and he pulled back so they could look at each other.

"Has he hurt you before?" Cas asked, anger flashing in his brilliantly blue eyes. Dean shrugged and tried to nuzzle his way back into Cas's neck, whining a little when he stopped rubbing his head and kept him in place with a hand on his nape. "Dean?"

"Once or twice," Dean shrugged, unfolding himself from Cas's lap and sitting up straight. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me," Cas reluctantly let him stand up, following him and holding on to him. "I care about your health, Dean."

"Well, I don't!" Dean huffed, shrugging Cas off and heading for the door. "Can you just take me to Griffy Cafe? I don't wanna be here anymore." He unlocked it and opened it, heading out and towards the stairs. He heard Cas follow him down the stairs and to the front door. Or they would have been going to the front door if Dean wasn't stopped by the figure of his father standing in the living room doorway looking like absolute shit and holding a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

Motherfucking fuck.

"Hey, dad," Dean said nervously, straightening his back and glancing back at a stony faced Cas.

"I asked you for some food, boy," John snapped, taking a swig of the Jack. "Who's that? He fucking you? Hey, buddy, better watch out for an STD. That boy is a slut. Fucks anything that moves, I tell ya. He'd fuck me if I let the faggot." John gagged purposefully.

Dean flinched at each insult, nausea appearing and his eyes burning. Fuck, he needed to get out of here. Cas stepped up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Aw, man, you look rich. You his sugar daddy? He paying you for a fuck, boy? Is that it? That's it," John continued, gulping down his whisky and laughing. "He's a little whore, buddy. And he wants to be a girl too. Little tranny whore. Wants to wear frilly little dresses and be fucked like a filthy bitch."

Dean trembled, feeling the food slowly come up. Cas's hand left his shoulder and he barely resisted the sob that bubbled up in his throat. Cas didn't want him anymore now too. The man moved past him, standing in front of him but a little to the side so he wasn't entirely blocking him from John. He didn't move for the door, he didn't move for the door. A part of Dean calmed, but majority stayed edgy and scared and angry and fucked up.

"You say another word about him," Cas began. "And I'm going to hurt you."

"Is that so?" John muttered, an expression of rage appearing. He took another swig of his whisky as Cas nodded, looking both calm and angry. John smirked and pulled his arm back, hurling the bottle of whisky at Dean.

Dean instinctively tensed and held his arms up to block the bottle headed straight for his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, heart hammering in his chest. The impact didn't come though, neither did the sound of glass breaking, and Dean opened his eyes and lowered his arms to find Cas standing in front of him, holding the bottle of whisky. A lot of it was splashed onto his suit and hands and some on his neck and face, but the rest was on the floor or in the bottle.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas asked, so full of concern that it hurt. Dean nodded, watching him nod in return before turning to face John. "You are a disgusting human being." Cas set the bottle on the ground, eyes locked on John's angry red face. "Come on, Dean."

Cas took his hand and led him to the door, grabbing their coats and tossing them over his arm before taking their shoes in hand and opening the front door after unlocking it. He pulled Dean outside, ignoring John's outraged shout of some derogatory term, and slammed it shut behind them. There was banging from within before everything quieted. Cas quickly pulled his shoes on and then helped Dean into his, along with his coat before pulling his own on.

Cas wrapped his arms around him and peppered his face with little kisses, nose brushing his skin occasionally. "I'm so sorry, little one," he murmured, gently nibbling on Dean's ear. "None of that was true and you didn't deserve to hear it. You are a wonderful person, baby boy, so perfect. Absolutely sweet and adorable and so deliciously beautiful."

Dean choked on a sob, clinging to Cas and burying his face in the man's coat. "Cas," he whimpered, shaking in his arms.

"It's okay, honey," Cas whispered, kissing his hair. "It doesn't matter if you like wearing clothes designed for females, it doesn't. I promise it doesn't." Cas kissed his tears and his closed eyes, his nose and his lips and his cheeks. "You're not a slut or whore either, sweetheart. I know that. Don't worry because I know.

"You're a sweet boy. My sweet boy. Daddy's perfect and pretty and kind little boy." Cas held him tightly yet gently, rubbing his back and sides and soothing him physically as his words did mentally. "Daddy's right here. What do you need, sweetie? I'm right here."

"Y-you," Dean gripped him, sniffing and trying not to cry. He shouldn't, not when he had somewhere to be. Cas pulled away and Dean choked and whimpered, trying to reach for him. "Please don't leave me!"

"I'm not, baby boy, I swear," Cas's arms slipped under his knees and his other arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Right here, my little one, right here." Dean nuzzled his daddy's neck, scrunching his face up at the smell of whisky. Normally he'd enjoy the scent but right now, it was making him sick. 

"Never leave, please," he croaked, whining as Cas opened the car and lowered him into it, buckling him up. "Please, daddy."

"I'm not leaving you, I promise, my little boy," Cas kissed his forehead before crouching beside him. "We'll go to my house and daddy will make you some hot chocolate and wrap you up in blankets and play with your hair. Okay, sweetie? Would you like that?"

"Yes, please, daddy," Dean mewled, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Cas smiled and kissed his cheek, whispering how much of a good boy he was. Cas pulled away and stood, shutting the door and quickly walking around the front of the car. He climbed in and started it, changing gears and turning down the road.

Once they were on the main road, he let go of the wheel with one hand and placed it on Dean's knee, using his thumb to rub the bone. It soothed him and he leaned his head down, rubbing his cheek against the hand. He closed his eyes, relaxing a little and feeling the tears dry up slowly.

He must have dozed off or something because the next thing he knew they were pulling into Cas's garage and the car was being shut off. Cas had taken his hand back and he exited the car, walking around and opening Dean's door. He didn't bother helping the man unbuckle the belt, mostly because he didn't think he could even move his arms without flailing about.

Cas didn't mind though, scooping him up into his arms and kicking the door shut. He nuzzled Dean's head, pressing little kisses to his hair and opened the door. He stepped inside and walked into the living room, settling Dean on the couch. He removed Dean's shoes and his jacket and stepped back.

"I'll be right back, baby. I promise. Ten minutes, okay?" Dean bit his lip then nodded, curling up in the same position he'd been in the car. Cas kissed his head and stepped away walking out of the room. Dean heard some shuffling and a door and some hushed whispers along with a tiny clink from the kitchen and then Cas was returning, holding a mug of hot chocolate, topped with tiny marshmallows.

"I'm going to get you some comfy clothes, okay? Give daddy a few more minutes?" Dean nodded, staring at the mug on the coffee table. Cas stroked his hair for a moment then left the room again, heading upstairs.

He returned a few minutes later with a bundle of clothes in his hand along with a fluffy looking black comforter. He'd also changed from his suit into a pair of checkered red and blue and white lounge pants and a white shirt. He set them on the table and knelt in front of Dean. Cas gently pulled his legs down and unbuttoned his jeans, but didn't take them off.

"Arms up, sweetheart," he said, smiling as Dean obeyed. "Good boy," he cooed, lifting the shirt off and helping Dean into a blue one, big and soft and worn and incredibly comfortable and smelling of Cas. "Stand up for me, little one?"

Dean did so with Cas's help, watching as he pulled his jeans off, along with his panties. Cas carefully removed the cock ring from his soft cock and balls then had him turn around and removed the vibrator. He set them on the table then helped Dean into a really soft pair of black pajama pants.

"Sit down for me, Dean," Cas murmured, standing and picking up the toys. "One minute, okay?" He left the room and a sink sounded before shutting off and Cas returned with a smile. "Would you like to watch a movie?" Dean nodded, watching as Cas grabbed a tablet from the cabinet below the mounted television and return to him.

He pulled the table closer to the couch and picked up the comforter, shaking it out and turning to Dean. Cas sat down in the corner of the couch with one leg against the back and the other on the floor and gestured Dean closer. Dean crawled between his legs and nestled himself against his chest. Cas lifted his leg, cradling Dean even closer to his body and fluffed the comforter up and over their bodies, tucking it around both of them.

Daddy reached over and picked up the tablet, setting it on his leg in front of Dean. A hand appeared in his hair and gently massaged, lips brushing his crown. "What do you want to watch?" Dean shrugged and leaned his head up to sniff Cas, sighing when he didn't smell whisky. He kissed his daddy's clothed chest, closing his eyes and relaxing.

He blinked his eyes open when he heard a voice and looked across the room towards the television, where some female he didn't know was cooking. It changed a moment later to a list of movies, ranging from The Dark Knight to some animated movie called Home. "How about Tangled? Have you ever seen that movie?"

Dean shook his head, watching as Cas pulled said movie up. "It's about Rapunzel and it looks quite good. How about we watch it, hmm?" Dean nodded, not really caring at the moment. Cas kissed his head again and clicked some more on the tablet before the whole room went full on dark, the drapes over the side window closing and blocking out the light. The television lit up with Walt Disney's signature opening, surround sound making the music boom around them.

Cas set the tablet on the table and lifted the mug. "How about you drink some hot chocolate? I'm pretty sure it tastes good but not completely. Would you mind being my little taster?" Dean lifted his hands and cradled the hot mug, sipping from the edge and pulling back, licking his lips. "Is it good? I sure hope so. I spent a lot of time making it. I had to open a package and pour it into the mug and then I had to put boiling water and milk and mix it and gah! It was sooo hard."

Dean giggled, shooting daddy an amused look that seemed to make the man melt. Cas kissed his temple and lifted the mug to his own lips, sipping it and grimacing. "It's very sweet," he muttered, shooting Dean a fond look. "But I'm sure your little sweet tooth loves it, huh, little one?"

"'course, daddy." Dean grinned, relaxing as Cas set the mug down and slipped his arm under the comforter, wrapping it around Dean. Dean looked at the screen as some weird old lady began to sing to a flower.

Cas kissed his head, breathing softly into his hair. "You're perfect, Dean," he muttered. "Absolutely perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Rimming, cock ring, vibrator, daddy kink, praise kink, comfort, age play (in a way).**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even realize more than a month had passed. I'm sorry!
> 
> Belated Merry Christmas! Belated happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! <3 Enjoy!
> 
> Please point out any mistakes you see, if you want to. :)

Dean squirmed, voices and laughter cutting through his dream and bringing him closer and closer to consciousness. He groaned, opening his eyes and blinking at the dark. He yawned and sat up, looking around the empty room with mild panic.

Cas left him. His daddy left him.

"Daddy?" he called out, already feeling dread. He wasn't here. The voices had been the television and he was gone. Oh god. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. Shit, shit, shit. He felt his eyes blur with tears and his throat close. His chest burned and his throat by extension, and the tears slipped from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks.

"Dean? Honey, breathe, please," a voice murmured in his ear, a soothing hand running itself through his hair and another rubbed his back. "Breathe for me. In and out. Please, baby. Daddy needs you to breathe." Dean choked out air, inhaling rapidly after. The burn slowly left him and the blur from his eyes disappeared.

Dean reached out blindly, grabbing at his daddy's shirt and tugging him closer somehow. He whimpered, arms tight around him and nuzzled his neck, eyes falling shut. "Thought you left me, daddy," he sniffed.

"No, sweetheart," Cas murmured, pressing a kiss to his hair. "I'm right here. I was just about to make us some lunch."

"Lunch," Dean repeated quietly, feeling silly. He was so stupid. Of course that's why Cas wasn't there. Of course. He wouldn't leave anyways, it was his house. If anything, he'd kick Dean out. Dean deserved to be kicked out, thrown out on his ass and left to die. He did.

"Hey, enough of that," Cas made a disappointed noise and it cut through Dean, physically hurting him.

"'nough of what?"

"Those thoughts running through your head. I may not know what they are but I do know they're not nice," Cas pulled back, cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over it. "Are you hungry, my sweet boy? Would you like to come help daddy make some sandwiches?"

"Okay," Dean reluctantly stood and followed Cas to the kitchen, clutching the back of the man's hand tight. The island had tomato and lettuce and cheese and bread on it, waiting to be assembled together as a sandwich. Dean looked down, feeling even stupider. 

Cas pulled him closer and planted a kiss to the side of his head, nose brushing his hair gently. "Would you break off pieces of lettuce for me?" He asked softly. Dean nodded and went to wash his hands, scrubbing them and drying them before opening the bag of lettuce and picking off big pieces. Cas washed his hands as well before cutting the wet tomato and cheese and lightly buttering the brown bread.

"Is that enough?" Dean asked, pointing at the little pile of lettuce. Cas glanced at it and smiled, nodding. He reached over and took it, placing the pieces on the bread before putting a layer of tomato and cheese and covering it with another piece of bread. He cut the sandwiches diagonally and then diagonally again, making little triangles.

Cas took out a bag of baby carrots and celery - chopping it into smaller pieces - and quickly made a dip with sour cream and mayonnaise and a little package of flavoring he didn't bother reading. "I'm a little bit of a cheat," Cas admitted, winking at him. "Taste for me?" He dipped a carrot the creamy sauce and held it out to Dean, patiently waiting for him to lean forward and eat it. Dean resisted the urge to make a disgusted face and bit the carrot, chewing slowly. He didn't like vegetables but he didn't want Cas to get mad at him.

"Good," he muttered, trying not to pout at the thought of eating all the vegetables. Where the heck was the meat?

Cas smirked, knowing. "You eat all the vegetables right now and you'll get a dinner that has meat." Dean narrowed his eyes, suspicious of what this dinner was. "Do we have a deal, my little carnivore?" Dean struggled not to smile and nodded. Cas narrowed his eyes playfully and held up his hand and made a fist with all his fingers but the smallest, the little finger.

Dean huffed and hooked his own little finger with Cas's, frowning when the man lifted a brow. "I promise," he muttered reluctantly, feeling warmth explode in his chest as Cas smiled approvingly.

Cas grabbed two big plates and placed the sandwiches on one and the vegetables and dip on the other. "What would you like to drink?" Cas asked, quickly cleaning up the rest of the vegetables and putting them away before placing the cutting board and knife he'd used in the sink. Dean bit his lip, normally he'd have a beer with his lunch but right now he didn't want that. "Dean?"

"Uh," Dean glanced at him and looked at the counter again, frowning.

"How about some Iced Tea?" Dean nodded, watching as Cas grabbed a pitcher of the drink from the fridge along with two glasses. He poured an equal amount into both and set the pitcher on the counter. "Now normally I wouldn't  let this happen but today I'm feeling quite lenient, if you will," Dean tilted his head, curious as to what he was getting at. "Do you want to eat in the living room?" He nodded again, watching Cas huff in amusement. "Help me then."

Dean picked up the glasses while Cas grabbed both the plates. He followed the man back into the dark living room and they set everything down on the table. Dean curled up in the middle of the couch, bunching the comforter around himself and watched as Cas dragged the table closer before sitting beside him and pressing against his side.

"Start eating," Cas said, gesturing to the food as he grabbed the tablet. "Would you like to watch Toy Story?" Dean shrugged, not really caring and grabbed one of the little triangle sandwiches, nibbling on the edge. "Toy Story it is." A moment later, the movie began playing.

They ate quietly and watched the movie, leaning against each other. It was calming and relaxing and sweet and after they ate their sandwiches and the - never fucking ending - vegetables, Dean dozed off, his head falling onto Cas's shoulder.

***

Dean whined and shifted, yawning softly and snuggling deeper into the warmth below him. A hand ran through his hair, ruffling it up. He blinked his eyes open, lifting his head and turning it so it faced the seat of the couch, or rather, Cas's rumpled shirt. He looked up, blinking further when he caught Cas's half-lidded blue gaze.

"Hello, Dean," he muttered, lips twitching. Dean groaned in response and dropped his head back on Cas's chest, not caring as his nose got a little smashed. "It's after six. Would you like to help me make dinner?" Dean shook his head but still he pushed himself up and into a kneeling position between Cas's legs.

"Pee," he muttered, earning a snort of laughter from Cas. He ignored him and crawled to his feet, stumbling out of the room and up the stairs because he didn't know where the main floor bathroom was - he didn't really care at the moment either.

When he was done in the bathroom, he washed his hands and face and walked back downstairs, finding Cas in the kitchen. Cas was peeling potatoes at the table and there was a pot of water on the stove. Dean slid onto the chair beside him, leaning his elbow on the table and his face on his fist, watching Cas's hands. Neither said anything, just sat quietly as Cas peeled the potatoes.

When he was done, he stood and threw away the peels, washing the potatoes before slicing them in half and in half again and one last half before putting the cubes in the now boiling water. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, listening to a few quite beeps from the stove, but not even really paying attention to that.

"Dean," a voice whispered into his ear, teasing and soft. He opened his eyes and turned his head, smiling slightly. "I'm making steak and baked potatoes. Would you like anything else?" Dean shook his head and turned it away again, feeling Cas press up against him and wrap his arms around him, chin on his shoulder. Dean had a feeling if he told Cas to just make anything for a side dish, he'd end up eating some other type of vegetable. He rolled his eyes, a tiny smirk forming.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling fatigued even though he'd basically slept the entire day away. He felt shitty as hell but he didn't want Cas to know, he'd already done so much for him. He'd already put up with all his bullshit. His fucking father and his... his... God, he didn't even know what his actions could be labeled as but Cas didn't deserve to have to deal with him and his crap. He didn't ask for it, well neither had Dean but Dean was used to it. He grew up with it. It was different than suddenly being thrown at this... bullshit.

Dean opened his eyes and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling blankly. He was the worst person for dragging Cas into this. A terrible person. So after dinner and after Cas went to sleep, he would sneak out of the house and... and just leave. Just a little longer before he could leave Cas to his life and wallow around in his orb of trash.

He didn't think Cas would really mind much, they'd just met and Dean was a serious difficulty already so it would be good. Even if he did care, he'd forget about Dean in a week and move on with his life. His perfect life, so calm and nice without Dean and his baggage.

_Just a little longer._

Cas pulled away and moved to the stove but Dean didn't watch him, he continued to stare up at the ceiling. Maybe it would give him the answer to curing his instability, his issues. Hah, yeah right. Dean sat forward, lowering his head and staring across the table at Cas with a smile. It earned him a weird look, a confused one, but the man didn't say anything, just smiled back. Dean could be a professional at fake smiles if he wanted to be. Cas, who had seemingly been able to sense them, didn't seem to be able to anymore. That was good...

... right?

Right.

Good.

_Just a little longer, Cas._

The time blurred as Cas quietly cooked the potatoes with butter and some other stuff and the grilled the steak outside. He made a salad too, which Dean scrunched his face at. He had promised him something with meat but he hadn't said it would only be steak. Damn. He would sacrifice his potatoes to not have to eat that stupid salad... No, no he wouldn't. He loved his potatoes.

_Just a little longer, please._

He wanted to savor this night. Just for a few more moments. He wanted to see Cas's smile, and hear his laugh. Dean wanted to watch the way his eyes crinkled lightly and his gums appeared as he smiled, his white teeth sparkling as much as his brilliantly blue eyes. He wanted to see him wink at him once more. Wanted to hear him tell Dean he was good. Wanted to feel him run a hand through his hair and stroke his scalp. He wanted to feel his lips on his cheek, or his mouth, wanted to feel them anywhere and everywhere.

_Just a little longer, please, Cas._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Daddy issues, daddy kink(?), age play(?), abandonment fear, panic attack, hateful / bad thoughts.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihi~ Enjoy! <3
> 
> Happy belated New Year~

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was bombarded with thoughts of just how pathetic he'd been. How could he have let himself slip so far? He had acted so needy and- and... He felt nauseous. He sat up slowly, glancing to the side and spotting Cas, sound asleep on his side. Dean slipped from the bed and grabbed his phone, turning it on and waiting for it to load. The time was twenty to five, which was as good as any time to get up and sneak out.

Dean ignored all the missed calls and messages he had and placed his phone on the table, quickly dressing in his old clothes, trying to be as quiet as he could so he didn't wake Cas. He had to get out of here and he didn't want to explain it to the man. This was goodbye. It had been from last night. Dean took his keys and phone and wallet, sliding them into his pockets.

His heart stopped briefly as Cas moved and groaned, shifting on the bed. Dean held his breath, staring over his should at the man, desperately hoping he didn't wake up. Cas stayed quiet and sleeping, thankfully, and Dean quickly pulled his socks on, creeping from the room and shutting the door behind himself.

He was so disgusting. What kind of sick fuck had a daddy kink and pretended to be a... a... fuck, he didn't know. Just someone who was younger than they actually were. It was gross. Dean pulled his shoes on and his jacket, undoing the chain on the front door and turning the lock on the handle. He opened the door and locked it again, grimacing at the rush of cold air that greeted him as he stepped outside.

He checked to make sure it was locked before heading down the path to the edge of the street. He pulled his phone out, checking over the messages. Fifteen missed calls, nineteen messages. Most of them were from his grandpa but some were from Charlie. His grandpa was mostly wondering where he was and why he wasn't here, also asking if he was okay and he needed a ride. Charlie was just messaging him about some games and something collectible she'd found online.

Dean wondered who he could call, Charlie was definitely sleeping and he didn't really know anyone else that would pick him up at nearly five in the morning. He decided to just call a cab, hoping he had enough money on him to pay for the journey from here to his house. Dean sat down on the curb while he waited for the cab to get here, playing games on his phone and trying to cuddle into his jacket so he didn't freeze to death.

It was about five past five when the cab finally showed up, the guy all nice and cheery as he asked him where he wanted to go. It didn't even change when Dean told him, which was kind of surprising - to him. The man talked and asked him questions about himself, just being polite and friendly as they drove through town. His name was Elias and he was fifty-three, he had two kids and a wife. He used to want to be a pharmacist but he hadn't been able to finish school when he was younger.

By the time they reached Dean's house, they were out of things to say. That was fine though, perfect. The guy was nice and all but he was really way too enthusiastic about chatting with a stranger and it was a little... weird. Dean paid the guy and exited the car, walking up the crumbly cement walkway to his front door. He unlocked it carefully and stepped inside, swallowing as he smelled whisky and beer.

Dean closed the door and locked it, removing his shoes and hanging up his jacket. His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it, carefully creeping up the stairs and to his room, breathing a sigh of relief when he made it without incident. He stripped off his clothes and crawled into his cold bed, curling up under the sheets and closing his eyes, hoping to catch an hour more of sleep.

***

Dean groaned and squirmed, blinking his eyes open slowly and yawning. He sat up abruptly, looking around and glancing out the window. Fuck. Too much light. He scrambled off his bed and onto the floor, grabbing at his pants and pulling his phone out.

11:34 AM.

_Fuck._

Dean stood hastily, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers and switching the old for new and finding a pair of clean - ish - work jeans and a stained shirt and tugging them on. He pulled up the missed messages from Charlie and Cas, he scrolled through them and nibbled on his lip.

**(9/28/15 - 06:34:19 AM) Castiel: Where did you go, Dean?**

**(9/28/15 - 06:34:30 AM) Castiel: Call or text.**

**(9/28/15 - 06:34:49 AM) Castiel: I'm worried.** **  
**

**(9/28/15 - 06:35:02 AM) Castiel: Please tell me you're safe.**

**(9/28/15 - 06:35:14 AM) Castiel: We need to talk about yesterday.**

**(9/28/15 - 06:35:28 AM) Castiel: I promise it's nothing bad. I just want to clear some things up.**

**(9/28/15 - 07:32:31 AM) Castiel: Please let me know you're okay.**

**(9/28/15 - 08:34:16 AM) Castiel: I know yesterday was rough but message me at least.**

**(9/28/15 - 09:03:58 AM) Castiel: I'm at work now. Can we meet for lunch? I'm free at noon.**

**(9/28/15 - 10:19:20 AM) Castiel: I'm really worried about you, Dean.**

**(9/28/15 - 10:23:05 AM) Castiel: Daddy's really worried about his little boy.**

**(9/28/15 - 11:24:11 AM) Castiel: Please.**

Dean bit his lip, wondering if a) he should go into work and ignore Cas's messages, b) leave a quick message and head to work, or c) send Charlie a message that he won't be there at all and meet Cas for lunch. He wasn't supposed to see Cas again. He had told himself that last night, even this morning. But he... he couldn't just... ignore him, right? That was rude. He shouldn't be rude. Right. That's all. He just wasn't being rude.

**(9/28/15 - 11:48:25 AM) Dean: I'm fantastic. Don't worry :D**

**(9/28/15 - 11:48:29 AM) Dean: Where?**

He messaged Charlie quickly then changed into cleaner and better clothing, not wanting to go out to a cafe or something with his gross work clothes. His phone dinged with a few messages not even two minutes later and he checked it. Two messages from Charlie but he didn't check them just yet, he pulled up Cas's instead.

**(9/28/15 - 11:50:02 AM) Castiel: Meet me at Sweet Tooth**

So the cafe they had been at before. Dean sighed and grabbed his things, pocketing his phone and carefully opening his door, checking the hall for his dad. He slowly walked to the stairs and then down them, grabbing his coat and putting his boots on. He unlocked the front door and closed it behind him, not even bothering to lock it. He didn't have nice shit; someone would probably break in and feel bad for him and actually leave something, that's how much he had.

He walked for about twenty minutes in the cool air, just taking his sweet time getting to the cafe. What did he say to Cas? Did he tell him the truth? Did he tell him that Dean didn't deserve him and his generosity? That Dean was just trash and he should be thrown away. Or how he couldn't bare waking up beside the man after how shitty he had acted yesterday? Who the fuck acted the way he did? Who the fuck even called someone unrelated to them daddy? Foster, adopted and whatever else didn't count. Two grown ass men playing father and son - basically - so calmly and easily; it was sickening. _Sickening!_

Dean pulled open the door for the cafe and stepped inside, immediately catching sight of Cas, looking way too dapper for this shitty cafe. He was about to head into the line, just to stall, when he caught sight of the extra white cup in front of the chair opposite Cas. He sighed and slowly walked over, keeping his gaze down and resisting the urge to play with his shirt - barely.

"Dean!" Cas stood and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the side of his head and pressing a little kiss to his ear. Fuck, Dean swallowed a whimper. Cas pulled back a little, all the worry and warmth and fuck knows what else evident in his expression. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"I said I was fantastic, didn't I?" Dean muttered, reluctantly shrugging off Cas's warmth. He sat down in the chair with the cup and ignored Cas's confused noise, watching from the beneath his lashes as the man stepped back to his chair and sat down.

"It seemed sarcastic," Cas said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well it wasn't."

"Clearly," Cas muttered, huffing quietly. Dean clenched his jaw and hands, closing his eyes. "Why did you leave this morning?"

"Because I didn't want to stay with you." He was ruining it, all of it. He had to stop. But he knew he shouldn't. He had had to end this sometime. Might as well be sooner rather than later, right? At least it wasn't a trust issue and he was the one doing the leaving. For once. Jesus. "I don't think we should..."

"Don't think we should what?" Dean flinched at the sharp tone. "Have a relationship? Think about liking each other? Dean, yesterday was fine and n-... and I had no problem with it; you shouldn't either. I understand you're going through things in life and it's difficult wrapping your head around things like this, but it's not weird and it's not something new."

"Going through things in life. What a dismissing way to say it," he scoffed, hands shaking and eyes stinging.

"I'm not dismissing it. Not at all. But would you rather I say you're dealing with an abusive and alcoholic father or say you're going through things in life? Quite obviously, you prefer the latter," Cas sighed, rubbing his eyes and sounding distressed. "I'm not trying to argue with you, Dean. I'm really not. I don't want to. I'm trying to say that you're not alone, you never are. There are people around you that will help you and care for you. I know we just met recently but I'm here if you can't talk to anyone else. Just let me in and don't push me away. Please."

"I don't want to do this anymore, okay? Just... just fuck off," it wasn't the best response to anything but it would work. Dean stood and walked out of the cafe, fighting back tears. He didn't ask for this shit. Not really. He had just wanted to be beaten and fucked and left like the trash he was; that's all he'd wanted from this. That was fucking all! But now Dean wanted him to come after him. Wanted Cas to come and hold him and make it all better. Tell him that he did deserve this. That he did deserve Cas. That he was good enough, if just barely. And that was the worst part. He couldn't have that. He didn't deserve that.

"Dean!"

He didn't fight the arm that grabbed his wrist, didn't lift his head. Maybe it was because he didn't think he could move his upper body, or maybe it was because he was desperate to feel the warmth of Cas as he wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, clutching the man. "I didn't mean that."

"Shh," Cas patted his back lightly but Dean still struggled to contain the sobs that threatened to spill from his lips. He couldn't cry, not here. It was too open. He could feel the gazes of people, the soft rushes of wind as they walked past. "Come with me, honey." Dean almost whined at the name but just gripped him tightly as he let Cas lead him away and to his car.

They slipped into the car and Cas tugged him into his lap, holding him tightly between his chest and the steering wheel and whispering sweet words into his ear. Dean frowned and curled closer to him, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, dad-" Shit! No! He couldn't say that! Cas's grip tightened to an almost bruising pressure.

" _Daddy_ ," he said pointedly. "Forgives you." Cas kissed him tenderly on the cheek and nudging him towards the passenger seat. "Sit, I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somewhere," Cas smiled and turned the car on, letting it idle for a moment then driving off and blending into traffic. Dean stayed silent, watching as they drove closer and closer to Cas's house. He wondered why he was taking him back here. There was no reason for him to be there, especially since Cas was most likely going back to work soon.

Cas pulled into his driveway and turned the car off, opening his door and slamming it shut lightly behind himself. Dean frowned and followed him, watching as he walked towards the second garage and flicked a side-panel up, revealing a number pad. He typed in a code and the garage opened slowly. Cas flicked the panel closed and stepped into the garage, turning a light on and revealing three covered cars, set in the shape of a square, the last spot with four covered motorcycles - or what looked like them.

"Cas?" Dean carefully walked closer, eyeing the bottoms of the cars and bikes curiously. Cas turned to him and grinned, grabbing the sheet that covered the first car and pulling. A thick layer of dust floated into the air and once it settled, Dean stared at the car. "Holy shit. Is that... is that a '67 four door Thunderbird Sedan?"

"Yes," Cas grinned wider. Dean placed a hand on the chipped dark blue paint, nearly drooling at the sight of the car. "I have other classics," he pointed at the rest of the covered vehicles. "You seem quite passionate about cars so I figured your happy place was somewhere there. I would appreciate it if you work on them. I'll pay you for the labor, of course, and take care of the money for parts and paint and such."

"But- Cas," Dean frowned, watching as Cas dropped the piece of cloth and moved towards the motorcycles. He pulled the sheets off them to reveal a Triumph Bonneville and a... what the hell was that? There were two Harley-Davidson's, although he didn't really recognize them.

"1959 Triumph Bonneville T100, 1948 Vincent Black Shadow. Two Harley-Davidson's, a 1998 FXSTB Night Train and a 2007 VRSCDX Night Rod Special," Cas said, pointing at each motorcycle as he did.

Dean stared with parted lips, so unsure as to how to process this information. They were all in their original colors but it was chipped and rusted over and only the Night Train and Rod looked good and cared for but they were all perfect anyways. Cas walked over to one of the garage walls, where a row of hooks with keys were. He pulled two off and walked back over, smiling easily.

"Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?" Dean shook his head. He'd never had one so he'd never learned. It probably sounded shitty considering he was a mechanic but he didn't really care right now. He knew how to fix one and how they worked, he knew quite a bit about them - not everything - but he'd never driven or been a passenger on one either. Had never really thought about it, honestly.

Cas hummed and pocketed one of the keys, walking over to the Night Rod. He pushed it out a little bit and stuck the key in the ignition, turning it. He put his hand on the right handlebar and the engine rumbled to life, purring prettily without Cas even revving the engine. He did that next, the engine roared and rumbled and Dean could feel goosebumps break out all over himself as it vibrated up his body. Perfect.

Cas climbed on and kicked up the stand, walking the bike out of the garage and onto the driveway. He put the stand down and turned the bike off and stood up again, walking back into the garage and over to a table. He shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt. Cas picked up a shiny black leather jacket with two wings going down the back and scripted words Dean couldn't make out covering it as well. He grabbed two black helmets that matched the bike and headed back over to Dean. Jesus, was Cas a fucking biker? No way. He couldn't be. Dean resisted the urge to hit his own head. Cas didn't seem like the type.

But fuck he looked so hot with his white dress shirt and fitted black leather jacket, complete with little zippers and pockets. His slacks were also fitted and attributed to his look. "Should I change into those jeans?" Cas asked, gesturing back to the table with one of the helmets, handing Dean the other.

"Uh..." Dean turned the helmet over in his hands, confused. "I guess?" Cas nodded and pulled his phone out, typing as he walked back to the table and picked up a pair of black jeans, disappearing behind the rest of the covered cars for a moment. He returned wearing the loose jeans with his shirt tucked into them and only his socks and set his clothing on the table. He picked up a pair of black boots and pulled them on standing, lacing them up quickly and tightly.

Cas pulled his helmet on, the visor open to reveal his face and stepped back over to Dean and the bike. The man smoothly slipped on and the engine roared to life once more. "Come on then, Dean," he said, grinning at Dean. "Get on behind me." Dean slowly walked over, lifting his leg and straddling the second seat behind Cas and placing his feet on the foot rests designed for him. There was a little back rest behind him but he didn't pay much attention to it, instead slipping his own helmet on and closing the visor.

The garage closed behind him and Dean glanced around Cas just in time to see him exit an app or something before he pocketed his phone, he didn't even know when he took it out. Cas revved the engine and Dean slipped his arms tight around the man's midsection, gripping is left wrist with his right hand. He wasn't scared but he was definitely uncertain. This was his first time on a motorcycle, though it was quite similar to a bicycle. Maybe.

"Ready?" Cas asked, slipping on a pair of leather gloves that Dean didn't see him grab. Dean nodded against his back, hoping he felt it. It seemed he did because the next thing he knew, Cas was flicking his visor down and they were rolling down the driveway. What felt like seconds later, they were joining the main traffic and racing down the road with the vibrations from the engine racing through them.

It was so freeing and breezy, if a little cold, and Dean loved it. He loved every second of it. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body, tightening his arms a little around Cas. This was calming. Dean always loved feeling the breeze when driving. The only thing missing from their ride was some music, preferably Led Zeppelin, but it was still fine without it; the rumble of the engine enough to sooth Dean in a similar way his music did. It had been years since Dean had last driven around so freely, without a care in the world.

Dean didn't pay attention to where they went, he didn't want to. He just loved the way the engine relaxed him. Dean only opened his eyes as they slowed, not just at a stoplight either. They were back at Cas's house, and the man was opening the garage door with his phone. He pocketed it and rode right into the motorcycle's original spot, turning it off and sitting back a little. Dean dropped his arms and slid off, stepping back and watching Cas climb off as well. He had his back to him, so Dean could actually see the writing on his jacket.

Death Angels.

Had to be a copy, right? Right. Cas couldn't possibly be part of a biker gang, or know anyone part of one. He wasn't the type of person... but then again, Dean didn't know him extremely well.

Cas turned to him, eyeing him for a moment, then smiling and shrugging off his jacket, tossing it onto the table. He leaned against the edge, watching Dean with an unusual look in his eyes. "Did you enjoy that?" He asked softly, tilting his head to the right. Dean nodded, swallowing, gaze darting over to the jacket and back to Cas.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "It was... it was nice." He looked at the jacket again, then at the cars. "Uh-"

"It's mine, Dean," Cas said with a laugh. Dean swallowed again, looking at Cas's face and trying to figure out if he was joking. "I joined the Angel's when I was eighteen. Spent two years of my life with them," he made an amused sound, something like a huff and a giggle but not exactly. "Technically, I'm still a member."

It kind of made sense. Cas was almost unnaturally strong, and he was muscled in ways that said he benched when Cas didn't seem like he did that at all. He didn't seem like he did any exercise. He was also quite mysterious. Seriously though, why was he telling Dean this? Did he plan on recruiting him? Hurting him? Killing him?

"The car... You said you got it when you were eighteen." Had to be part of it.

"Ah, yes, Luke gave me it. It was, uhm," he paused, looking away. "It was a lure to join his gang." He knew it.

But...

"Your brother is the leader of the Death Angels?" Mother of fuck. Could this get worse?

"Well... yes?" Cas looked hesitant, biting his lip briefly before looking at Dean. "We call him the Devil. I don't know why considering his full name is already Lucifer. It makes sense, though," Cas rolled his eyes, thinking of something. Dean stepped to the side, turning his body and looking out the garage. He was nervous, and he knew Cas knew. Bikers could be scary men, he knew that, but Cas had been nothing but affectionate and kind to him so far. The key words being 'so far'.

Cas was twenty-five, he had said as much. So he had joined the gang when he was eighteen, leaving when he was twenty. It took around five-ish years to be an accountant, Dean assumed, so Cas hadn't already had his birthday this year. It was still to come. This also meant that he had graduated recently. Or maybe... maybe he had studied while in the gang? Fuck, what did being in a gang even mean? Dean assumed it meant a bunch of dudes with guns on motorcycles with girls on their passenger seats or laps and driving up and down highways and shit. But maybe it meant something more, maybe it was much bigger and deeper and scarier than he thought.

"I ask you not say anything to anyone, Dean," Cas said slowly, almost eerily calmly. "It wouldn't be good if people found out I was in a gang."

"This is a joke, right Cas? Just a joke," Dean smiled nervously, his heart pattering roughly in his chest. Cas pushed himself off the table and slowly walked over to him, arms sliding around Dean's tense body and pulling him in closer. Trapping him in a relatively loose, gentle embrace.

His lips brushed Dean's ear, teasing and gentle, rough and wet. "No, Dean," Cas's breath was hot on his ear, sending little shivers down his spine. "It's not a joke." He bit his cartilage, hard. A soft whimper escaped him, and his cock twitched in his jeans and his hips accidentally moved forward. Dean flushed a little, knowing he had felt his slowly swelling cock and heard him. He was so embarrassed to be aroused right now, especially at such a tense moment like this. Cas chuckled darkly in his ear, almost wickedly. "How cute," he cooed. "My little boy is aroused at this."

Dean's hands shook lightly, breath picking up and heart hammering harshly, painfully, in his chest. "I gotta go to work today, Cas," Dean was proud that his voice didn't waver... much.

"Your garage closes at three.-" _How did he know that?!_ "-Going to work now, when the whole day is done, would be a little odd," Cas hummed, arms tightening around him slowly. "Don't you think so, honey?"

"I-I suppose... I just, I mean, I left work to, uh, come see you," _fuck, Dean, just stay calm. You'll be able to leave in a minute._ "So I should, er, go back."

"You should really get better at lying, darling," Cas's nose brushed his neck, lips pressing softly against his skin. "You won't be telling anyone about this conversation, will you, my sweet boy?"

"No," he said thickly, softly. "I promise."

"Good boy," Cas grinned against his neck and nudged his head back and pressed a kiss to his throat, teeth scraping over it gently. Dean breathed in deeply, toes curling lightly. "Such a good boy for daddy, aren't you?" Dean bristled, heart skipping a beat, and clenched his jaw. "Only for your daddy." Cas dragged his teeth up Dean's neck, jaw and over his cheek. He pulled back a little so they could lock eyes, a dark gleam shown in his blue eyes.

Cas nipped his bottom lip before he dropped his arms and stepped back, taking his warmth with him. Dean tried not to move, tried not to show he was scared, but he didn't think it was working. Cas stepped backwards more, until he reached the table, and then dug in his slacks, pulling out a pair of keys. He tossed them at Dean, smiling easily, warmly. It eased something inside of him, calmed him.

"Take the Shelby, Dean, and go to...  _work._ " Cas tilted his head, sliding onto the table and placing his folded hands in his lap. Maybe Dean really should leave for good. Maybe it would be safer.

Dean backed away slowly, walking over to the car and hesitantly getting in, watching Cas the whole time. The man just tilted his head further and smiled wider, lifting his hand and waving when Dean started the engine. It was weird, driving a car again, but he didn't forget. Dean backed out and started down the street, glancing out the window to see Cas still waving. 

He didn't think until he was almost home.

He didn't realize what he'd done.

He had to see Cas again.

He had his damn car.

Fucking hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Bad headspace, daddy kink, praise kink.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for bruises, cuts, bad thoughts and mentioned but not described abuse.**
> 
> Yayyyyyyyy. Enjoy! <3
> 
> Forgive me for mistakes please!

It had been a month. A goddamn _month_ since he last saw him, two weeks since Castiel had last sent a message. He missed him. So much. So incredibly much. He missed his kisses and his hugs and his sweet words; he missed his personality and his dorky smile; he missed him so bad. _I want him back,_ he thought, blinking back tears and struggling to control of shaking.

Stupid fucking lonely October and stupid fucking equally lonely Halloween. Okay, Halloween wasn't stupid. He loved Halloween; it was the best time of the year. But he had had no one to spend it with; he missed his favorite holiday thinking about Cas and trying to calm his annoyed dad. The kids had been ecstatic when they saw him, thinking his facial bruises had been part of his zombie look. They hadn't been, only the light grey body paint and cut up clothes were. That didn't matter though. They'd loved it. Didn't matter at all.

Dean wanted Cas.

He just wanted to see him, or read a message from him.

_Fucking anything._

He slumped against the wall, curling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He was situated in the grimy basement, the only safe place because of the deadbolt locks he'd installed. His dad was on a terrible binge today, November second was the day mom had left him, both unofficially and officially.

He wasn't allowed to see him though. He didn't deserve to. He was pathetic, worthless. Trash at its worst. _'Scum, that's all you are.'_ **His** words echoed in his head, rapidly giving him a headache. Dean clutched the sides of his head, dropping his forehead to his knees. _'Useless, trash, garbage, shit, idiotic,-'_

"-ruined, broken, used, bad," he chanted the familiar words softly, flinching and trembling harder when a door slammed upstairs and there was unintelligible shouting and banging. Bile rose up his throat, fear coursing through his whole body as footsteps sounded on the stairs leading to the basement door. He started rocking his body slowly, stomach turning aggressively. They weren't rough or clumsy, they were soft and measured and that scared him more than anything. Was his dad having a moment of sobriety? Was he coherent enough to pick the lock and open the door? Come inside and beat him broken and bloody?

The door shook and he gasped, sliding back along the wall until he came to the corner, right where the walls met. There were probably spiders and webs here but he didn't know or see any so he-Fuck! Something was crawling on him. He jerked away from the wall, shaking himself off and crawling away rapidly. Fuck. He hated insects.

Dean shuddered violently at the thought of the bugs and as the handle on the door shook. There was no shout or voice, just shuffling feet before something clicked and clicked again and the sound of the fucking handle _turning_ \- oh God, no. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, crawling backwards again because suffering a spider bite or feeling something crawl on him was so much better than being beaten bloody. The corner provided a little hiding space for him, hidden with rotted boxes and old furniture. He was safe, for the moment.

Light spilled into the dark room, quickly followed by slow steps. The steps stopped after just a few, and Dean knew his dad was standing still. Waiting for something. For a movement from Dean. For his breath to become louder or his fucking heart to burst from his chest. Blood thudded harshly in his ears and he squeezed his eye shut, quietly letting out a breath and inhaling deeply. He held his breath, waiting.

Nothing happened.

No sound of shuffling feet nor any rough baritone shouting curses nor austere breath echoing in the room.

Silence, absolute silence.

Pin drop worthy.

Dean slowly let out his held breath, squeezing his eyes shut as something crawled up his arm. He couldn't move, he couldn't. But he was going to barf or jerk around, he knew it. He started shuddering violently, bones trembling. And he accidentally shuffled his legs, the worn rubber bottom of his boots scuffing the floor; a dreadfully loud echo in the large, almost empty room.

The steps were immediate and fast, circling around his little hiding space behind the boxes and coming right up to him. Dean curled into himself, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for the blow he knew was coming.

But it didn't come. Instead, two gentle hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer carefully. Dean inhaled sharply and wasn't attacked by the scent of sweat and vomit and liquor, no, he smelled cinnamon and aftershave and something uniquely... uniquely _Cas._

"It's okay, sweetie, daddy's here," Cas murmured, his rough voice sounding right in his left ear. Dean blinked in the dark room, confused and scared and so incredibly happy to hear and feel him again. He slowly reached for him, hands touching what he assumed was his suit jacket and clutching it. Dean choked on a sob and buried himself in his arms, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to not cry _too_ hard.

"Daddy-" he whimpered, wincing at the pain in his lip and jaw as he spoke. "Why'd you leave me?"

"I didn't, honey, I was busy. I assumed you were as well when you never replied to my texts," Cas pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I had no idea it was this bad."

"It's not... not-"

"Don't you dare try and say it's okay. This is not okay. You're sitting in a dark room with _two_ bolted locks, ones that lock from the inside." Cas sighed, sad. "I need you to stand for me. Can you do that, my sweet boy?" Dean nodded, sniffing and letting Cas help him to his feet. He swayed slightly, head throbbing and clutched Cas as they slowly walked to the door.

Dean kept his head down, not wanting Cas to see the faded and fresh bruises adorning his face, or the blood that was most likely dried on it. They made it up the stairs before he noticed anything, too busy focusing on their feet and holding Dean as they walked up the steps. Cas snarled and forced his chin up, holding it a little too tight and keeping him in place as he angrily eyed Dean's face, and then his clothed body.

"Can you walk by yourself?" Cas said slowly, tightly. He nodded. "Go to your room and pack anything and everything you need for the next month, at least." He frowned. "Now, Dean."

He nodded again, slower this time. Dean pulled away from Cas and slowly walked to the stairs, looking around hesitantly for his dad. He didn't see him anywhere, he just hoped he wasn't upstairs. Even if he was, Cas was here. Cas would protect him. He would keep him safe. He would. Dean gripped the railing, breathing a little too heavy for walking up a flight of stairs. 

Dean padded into his room, finding two duffle bags in his closet and quickly, well as quickly as his injured body could, packing his clothes and essentials into the bags. He got his toothbrush and deodorant and anything else he needed from the bathroom as well. He heard a loud yell that was quickly followed by a heavy thud, like someone crashing to the floor or something falling.

Shit.

Dean held the bags tightly as he left the bathroom, heading to the stairs and looking around for Cas. He struggled down them as fast as he could, dropping his bags at the end and heading for the living room first. He seriously didn't expect to see Cas leaning against the wall with a handkerchief in hand, wiping blood from his knuckles, and he really didn't expect to see his dad unconscious in his fallen recliner.

"Did... Did you-"

"Are you done packing?" Cas interrupted casually, smiling at him kindly. Dean blinked. "I'll take that as a yes. Come on then. Do you have the keys to the Shelby?" He nodded. "Alright. Where is it?"

"G-" he cleared his throat. "Garage," he muttered. He'd tried not to use it but it was too tempting, at least he'd last filled it with more than half a tank of gas and taken good care of its appearance.

Cas nodded and walked over to him, standing to his left and cupping his right cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to his lightly throbbing left cheek. Dean flushed slightly and shuffled his feet, looking down. He sniffed lightly when Cas huffed quietly, and followed after him when he dropped his hand and walked out of the room.

He didn't protest or offer to help Cas as he picked up Dean's bags and walked out the front door. Dean grabbed his jacket and wallet and the keys to Cas's Shelby and his other keys. He clicked the handle lock and pulled the door shut after himself, following after Cas to the crooked garage door. Dean glanced at the bright sky and squinted. Cas pulled it up and open and took the car keys from Dean, opening the trunk to reveal a plain medium sized black gift bag with cream gift tissue paper.

He set the bags inside and grabbed the bag by the handles, closing the trunk and walking to the drivers side. Cas slipped into the car after unlocking the door and Dean quickly walked around to the other side, carefully climbing into the passenger seat. It hurt his whole body to sit down but it was better than standing.

Cas handed him the bag and turned the car on, letting it idle for a second before backing out onto the cracked and bumpy driveway. He stepped out of the car and closed the garage door before returning. Cas didn't speak on the ride to his house so neither did Dean. He rode in a slightly tense silence to his house, not even speaking when Cas parked in the garage and turned the car off, nor when they entered the house with the bags.

"That was a gift for you. Open it," Cas said as he set Dean's bags down, finally turning to look at him, lips pressed thin. Dean swallowed and looked away, staring down at the bag in his hands.

He pulled the tissue paper away, making it stand up, and stared at the little gifts inside. A cute little pair of peach colored panties, what looked like folded pajamas, a Cadbury Dairy milk chocolate bar and... and a big, fluffy white teddy bear with a cute blue beanie, black button nose, big blue eyes and a tiny blue shirt with a brown bear that said 'I wuv hugz'.

Dean grasped the bear and set the bag on the floor, holding it in his hands and staring it right in the eye. "Do you like it? I hope you do. I actually, uhm," a quick glance at Cas revealed him to be blushing and looking down. "I made it."

"When?" Dean muttered, hugging the bear to his chest and sniffing it. It smelled like Cas.

"Last week. I was going to give it to you then but I got busy with work," Cas cleared his throat. Dean looked at him again, finding him watching him. "Set the bear in the living room and come upstairs, okay?" He nodded, watching Cas pick up his duffle bags and head for the stairs.

Dean looked down at the bear, smiling at the cute little cat-like mouth. It was so soft and squishy and he loved it. He almost kissed the head but remembered his bloody face and frowned. He quickly walked into the living room and set the bear on the couch, facing the TV. Then he walked up the stairs as fast as he could and found Cas standing in the bathroom with an opened first aid kit.

"Come here, darling," Cas said, gesturing him closer. He took hold of the hem of his shirt and gently lifted it up and off of his body, dropping it onto the counter. He frowned at the dark bruises covering Dean's abdomen. "I should have broken his jaw... _at least._ " Dean smiled and shook his head, feeling a little endeared at the sincere anger and sadness he detected in Cas's voice.

Cas grabbed his hips gently and lifted him up and onto the counter like he weighed nothing at all. He stepped between his legs, smirking and winking teasingly at him, making him laugh lightly, before beginning to clean his face of the dried blood and tears and drool and snot and who knows what else.

It took a good fifteen minutes before Dean was properly clean and patched up with little white butterfly bandages. Dean had a black eye and a cut cheekbone, both on the left side. His other side had a nasty bruise along his jawline and a bruise just below his temple. His bottom lip wasn't exactly split but Dean had accidentally bit it when he'd been punched. His left eyebrow also had a tiny cut but it wasn't bad. His nose was also bruised and had bled like crazy but thankfully it hadn't been broken.

Or... that's what Cas said anyways. He didn't know if was telling the truth but he didn't think he would lie about this. Dean didn't have the strength to look in the mirror but he probably had more bruises for all he knew.

"All done," Cas said, winking at him and throwing all the used things away before washing his hands and putting the first aid kit under the sink. "Are you hungry, baby?" Dean's stomach growled roughly in response, and he blushed. "Now that's a yes," Cas laughed, leaning forward and nuzzling Dean's chin with his noise gingerly before pressing a little kiss to his lips. "What would you like to eat?"

"I dunno," he whispered, looking down at his folded hands.

"How about we make some sandwiches right now and make Shepherd's pie later? Does that sound like a good idea?" Cas asked, wrapping his arms around Dean's bare upper body.

"Yah," Dean blinked, smiling hesitantly. He leaned closer and wrapped his arms around Cas's shoulders, burying his face in his neck and sighing. "Thank you, daddy." It wasn't so bad to say that word. It was really nice actually. And it didn't disgust him. Not like before. Maybe it was because he'd missed his daddy so much that he just didn't care anymore.

"Anything for you, my little boy," Cas hummed, pressing a long kiss to his hair. "Come on, let's get you into something more comfy and feed your little monster," he teased, lightly poking Dean's stomach. Dean huffed, trying not to laugh and pushed his daddy away.

"Don't!"

"Don't what? Huh?" Cas grinned, ducking his head into Dean's neck and tickling him with his stubble. "You gonna stop me from tickling you, little one? You and your hungry little tummy?"

"Stop- it-" Dean threw his head back and laughed when Cas's nimble fingers attacked his sides gently but firmly, squirming away from him but trapped on the counter. "Daddy!"

"Grr," Cas growled so adorably falsely that it made him choke on laughter. "Come on," Cas pulled away, grinning at him. "Let's go get some food." Cas helped him off the counter and held his hand out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen, grip tight and warm and firm and caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Daddy kink, minor age play, mentioned abuse, bruises, cuts, bad headspace.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edit: I decided not to add Sam and Jess into this story part, but they will be featured in the second part. Sorry.**
> 
> So... I may have went a little too far with this chapter. There are elements of **rape and there is vomit** but there is no rape... although there is vomit... I already said that last part but whatever. Lmao
> 
> Also, this story is so goddamn emo right now, I promise smut soon.
> 
> Enjoy!

It took a few hours but Dean came back to himself while helping Cas peel potatoes. Dean stared at the half-peeled potato in his hands, carefully setting it and the peeler on the table. Cas looked at him curiously but didn't comment.

Dean remembered his dad's body laying on the floor and couldn't help but feel glad... but at the same time wonder if he was alright. He barely recalled a bloody nose and split lip and as he thought harder, he had been breathing, if a little shakily, especially for an unconscious man. He wasn't dead, at least. He didn't know whether to be angry at Cas for hurting his dad or be ecstatic that he'd retaliated on John for him.

"What are we doing, Cas?" He asked aloud, mostly unintentional.

Cas paused in his peeling, setting the items in hand down in the bowl beside himself and clearing his throat. "What do you mean?"

Dean hesitated only briefly. "This was never supposed to happen," he sounded broken, and it was disgusting. "You were supposed to beat me until whatever pent up anger you had left, fuck me until you were satisfied and leave me because all that's all I'm useful for, Cas. I'm here for a quick whipping and a faster fuck."

Cas inhaled sharply, probably shocked. "Dean-"

"You can't do this. You shouldn't do it. You walk into my life and you _care_ and say everything's okay when _it's not_. I'm broken, Cas, and even a stranger can see it," he laughed, hollow and stood, wiping his hands on his pants.

Cas stared at him with a mix of dread and discomfort, he looked away, staring at his feet. "I think I should go, and I think we should stop seeing each other. I don't know why you came to my house today of all days, and I'd like to but at the same time, I don't care. You didn't bother caring for two weeks-"

"You ignored my messages."

"You could have called. I would have answered."

"Like you answered my texts?"

Dean huffed and turned his head to the side. "Even if I didn't answer them, you knew I read them." He sighed. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. I _need_ you. You're probably the only thing keeping me from falling apart right now, even Charlie and Pam aren't helping."

"Who-"

"I'm gonna get my bag," he said, walking to the sink and rinsing his hands. "And I'm going to go. And we're going to delete each other's numbers and never talk to the other again."

"And if I refuse to leave you alone?" Cas stood, crossing his arms and frowning.

"Then good for you. I'll get a fucking restraining order if it comes to that."

"That's a little dramatic, Dean."

"I don't care. I was made to be used and abused and that's okay, I understand it is, some people gotta be; but I'm not gonna let you be part of it, 'cause I honestly don't know if you're a good thing or a bad thing. You're a fucking biker for Christ's sake."

"That has to do with nothing," Cas said defensively, eyes narrowing.

"Has to do with a lot of things, Cas, a lot."

"Like what?"

"You could be here to kill me for all I fucking know!"

"If I really wanted to kill you, do you really believe I'd play daddy-" Dean winced. "-to and be in a relationship with you?"

"I don't know," he muttered pathetically. "You... you could have just been waiting to gain my trust."

"Wow," Cas laughed, sounding as hollow as Dean had earlier. "Just-... wow."

"I should go," he said, swallowing and moving to the doorway.

"No, don't. We're going to talk about this like adults and after, you can leave."

"I'm not in the mood," he snapped, ignoring Cas as he moved closer and quickly stepping into the hallway. Cas grabbed him from behind but he pushed him away, not wanting to stay or be touched. "Thanks for patching me up, okay, Cas? Thanks. But I should-"

Dean's breath was knocked out of him when he was grabbed and slammed into the wall, jarring a picture frame to his right, an arm pressing against his throat. He swallowed at the dark look in Cas's blue eyes, suddenly nervous. " _I said,_ " Cas began quietly, evenly. "We're going to talk about this like adults. If you don't wish to be an adult, I'll _gladly_ take you over my knee and beat your ass red."

His eyes burned, he blinked rapidly. "Please just let me go," he choked. "I don't want this, please. I don't- I wanna go- I don't deserve you. Please don't hurt me." 

Cas froze, hard expression melting into something much softer. "Oh- Dean- I'm not- I didn't- I wasn't actually going to. Dean, I'm sorry. Please don't cry," he removed his arm from his throat and slid both around Dean, one hand sliding up his back and to his head, cradling it gently. "I'm not going to hurt you, baby, I'm so sorry."

Dean swallowed, feeling his body tremble. He didn't return Cas's hug, but he didn't pull away either. He tried to suppress the choked cries that wanted to escape his lips but it wasn't working. "C-can I... go?"

"Yes, you can go but... but do you really want to, Dean?" Cas pulled back, cupping his cheek with the hand that had been in his hair. "Do you really want to leave?" He looked a little sad as he said this.

Dean whimpered, shaking his head. "No- but, but I can't- can't stay."

"Why? Why can't you stay with me? I know our whole relationship is a tad bit weird but it's not bad; at least, I don't think it's bad. What's making you feel like this?"

"I don't deserve you!"

"I know, Dean, I'm sorry. I know you deserve someone so much better than me but I'm trying."

"That's not what I meant! I meant... I deserve shit and you're not shit. Cas, you're amazing," he squeezed his eyes shut then opened them, clearing his vision. "You're too good for me."

"That's not true."

"It is, Cas. I know it is."

"Please don't leave me, Dean," Cas murmured thickly, brushing his lips against Dean's cheek lightly. "Please?"

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, dipping his head and trying to control his heavy breathing. "Would you fuck me?" He asked softly.

"Dean- No, not now. It's not a good time for sex, if you hadn't realized."

"I did, but I don't care. Fuck me, Cas."

"I said no."

"Fuck me or I'll fuck you," Dean lifted his head then, gaze sharp and demanding. He stood straighter, Cas's hands loosening and sliding down his body. "It's your choice, but the only one you get."

Cas's lips parted, and he looked conflicted, worried, unsure, he couldn't pinpoint his exact response. "Dean. Dean, I don't want this."

His eyes stung once more. "I don't care, I don't care. I do, I want you. I wanna feel you. Need to." He sniffed. "I'm going to fuck you, Cas." He moved fast, grabbing Cas's biceps and spinning them around,  so he was pressed into the wall this time.

Cas didn't fight him but Dean knew he could, he knew he could stop him but he didn't. Dean leaned forward, kissing him deeply and not truly caring when he didn't exactly respond to it. "Dean-" He slapped his hand down on Cas's mouth, trailing kisses over his neck and removing his partly unbuttoned shirt the rest of the way and tossing it to the side.

Cas placed his hands on Dean's hips, holding him in place, and a quiet groan escaped his lips as Dean sucked on his left nipple. The man's head hit the wall with a soft curse, and it was quickly followed by the grasping of his face and a kiss.  "We shouldn't-"

"It's okay, Cas. It's okay," Dean reassured, clawing at his pants, trying to find the zipper and button. He grasped the middle, undoing the button and yanking the zipper down, shoving it down his legs along with his boxers. He dropped to his knees with a thud, taking Cas's half-hard cock into his mouth and sucking hard.

Cas moaned and slid a hand into his hair, pulling hard and rocking his hips. "Dean, please, just-" He ignored him, lapping at the head of his erection, moaning around it. He pulled back with a quiet pop and stood, heading for the bedroom and dragging a stumbling Cas with him, his pants around his thighs. "Dean!"

He jerked him back, making Dean fall into him, and frown. "What, Cas? This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to spank me and fuck me?"

" _No_ , Dean." Cas swallowed, closing his eyes momentarily. "Just listen to me." He stepped back, letting go of Dean completely. He pulled his pants and underwear back up, zipping and buttoning the slacks. He rubbed his eyes, running a hand through his hair and looking around the hall.

He sighed, blinking tiredly and shaking his head. "Nevermind... nevermind. If you wish to leave, Dean, feel free to leave; but I'm going to go finish making dinner, and if you want to stick around, then stick around and eat with me. You can sleep, you can leave, _hell_ \- you can trash my house for all I care; you can do whatever you want, but I refuse to let you fuck me. Not because I wouldn't enjoy your penis in my ass, but because I didn't consent to it."

Dean's lips parted, suddenly aware of all the negative responses Cas had given him when he'd tried to initiate something. He'd almost raped him, almost... Oh, dear God. Dean stepped back but he tripped on the stairs, falling on his ass on one of the steps. He lifted his legs to the step below his butt, dropping his head onto them and curling his arms around them.

Cas sighed again and seemed to hesitate, before stepping back slowly and heading back to the kitchen. Dean felt sick, disgusted. He was so fucked up, so incredibly... God, now Cas was really going to leave him. He deserved it, truly. He was a terrible person, conflicted and needy and full of baggage.

Dean breathed deeply, trying to remember how to breath deeply and calm himself but completely failing at doing so. He opened his mouth to suck in air but a sob escaped instead, followed by another and another. He rocked his body, feeling his bones shake from head to toe, his head spinning and his stomach flipping.

He wanted to die.

He was ugly.

And useless.

Crap.

Scarred.

Used.

Stupid.

Trash.

Expendable.

Broken.

Scum.

Wimp.

GARBAGE. HE WAS FUCKING GARBAGE.  HE SHOULD JUMP IN A DUMPSTER AND GET CRUSHED LIKE THE SHIT HE-

Dean wasn't aware he was screaming words nor that he was slamming his fist into his crown until his wrist was grabbed and a painful throb registered in both his hand and on his head. "Dean. Dean, look at me." He was hyperventilating, and his vision was blurred with more than just tears. "Shh. Blink your eyes and breath. Just breath. Come on, shh, breath with me." Cas pulled him in close so they were chest to chest, able to feel each others breaths.

He breathed slow and calm, deep and large, while Dean had shaky breaths that jarred his chest and hurt his lungs. Eventually though, his breathing evened to something close to Cas's. He rocked him carefully, hands rubbing over his body and soft, sweet words pouring from his lips. 

He jerked back, Cas letting him only a few inches, something rising in his throat. He pushed him off, kicking a little and felt vomit come up. Dean slapped his hand over his mouth, turning watery panicked eyes to Cas, and looking around wildly. "Come-"

Too late.

Dean choked and dropped his hand, vomit escaping his mouth and hitting the wooden stairs and his pants and shirt. What a fucking mess. He curled his legs towards his chest, burying his face in his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs. Cas's hand touched his shoulder, gentle. He whimpered, knowing he was probably so angry.

Dean was so pathetic, he couldn't even throw up properly. "Okay, baby," Cas muttered, sighing heavily. "We're going upstairs." He shook his head, not wanting to move, but Cas didn't care. He pushed his legs away from his chest and slid an arm under his knees, another wrapping around his midsection. He lifted him with a strange ease, stepping around the mess Dean had made and making up the stairs.

He blinked, staring at the side of Cas's face, wanting to apologize but unable to move his lips, or his body. He blanked out while Cas stripped him and washed him, but he came back when the man tucked him under the blankets on the bed and left the room. He was disgusted, it was obvious.

Dean smiled to himself, closing his eyes. He was more trouble than he was worth, and this just proved it. Cas would get rid of him for sure now, he had to. Dean yawned and turned over slowly, burying his nose in Cas's pillow and breathing deeply. He would miss him. He would miss him a hell of a lot. But it was for the best.

"For the best," he whispered firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Bad headspace, vomit, rape elements.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... We're almost done here. :o
> 
> Unbetaed. Enjoy~ <3

He slept past dinner and didn't even feel Cas join him in the bed, but he did wake up at three in the morning and crawl out of the man's arms. He changed into some clothes from his duffle bag and then collected his things and walked out the front door. It wasn't until he was on the bus and halfway to his grandpa's home that he realized he never took the teddy bear with him.

It was a gift from Cas and a gift he really liked, but that was okay. He... it was fine. Dean stepped off the bus when it came to its last stop and looked around at the deserted area, sighing and beginning to walk the rest of the way.

It was a little less than thirty minutes later that he showed up in front of a thick metal door. He knocked hard, looking around himself as he waited for him to come unlock the door. He knocked again when no one came, leaning against the wall and sliding down, dropping his head to his knees.

The door opened and his grandpa stepped out holding a handgun, looking around. Dean looked up at him, eyes blurry. "Grandpa," he muttered, taking the offered hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, tugging Dean inside and closing the door, locking it. He pulled him down the stairs and set the gun on a table, gently pushing Dean to sit in a chair.

"I couldn't go anywhere else," he said thickly, shrugging. Henry pulled a chair up beside him, gaze searching over his face and body.

"What happened to your face?" He asked, hand settling on Dean's knee. He shrugged in reply, chewing on the inner corner of his mouth.

"I can't-" he swallowed. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" Henry looked so confused. "What's going on?"

"I hate dad. I hate him."

Henry's jaw clenched and he curled his fingers into a fist. "Did John do this to you?" He asked, his voice sounding like steel. "Did he hurt you?"

Dean shrugged again, looking at the map table to his right. "He always does," he said, huffing on a laugh. He watched Henry turn his head away and cough harshly, chest jerking.

"Dean," he said roughly. "When did he start doing this again?"

"He never stopped," Dean blinked his eyes, trying to get clear them. "I can't do it anymore, grandpa."

"Okay," he said, clearing his throat. "We'll... I'll get you out of this. You'll be okay, son," he said, hesitating before reaching out and pulling Dean in for a hug. He didn't even realize he had tears sliding down his face before Henry wiped them away gently. "You're okay."

"I'm not, I'm not," he choked, gripping him tightly. "I want Cas, I want him and I can't have him."

"Cas?" Henry shifted, rubbing his back. "Who's Cas?"

"He's... He's my... boyfriend."

"Why can't you have him? Did he do something to you too?" His grandpa sounded so confused. He coughed again, body jerking against Dean. "Where is he?"

"I left him," he muttered, sniffing. "I left him because I don't deserve him. He's too perfect and I'm just a piece of shit."

"You're not a piece of shit, Dean," Henry sighed. "You're not."

"I am-" he sobbed, clinging to him and crying. "I am."

"No," Henry said, following it up with something Dean didn't acknowledge, didn't hear. He cried until his throat ached and he couldn't anymore. Until he was numb and just the shell of his broken self.

***

Dean woke up in the library, sitting in a recliner in the corner by two shelves. He sat up and looked around, remembering the way he had stumbled towards it when his grandpa had left to get him a glass of water. He spotted Henry sitting at one of the tables reading a book, with a glass of water and a steaming mug of coffee beside him.

Henry looked up at him and frowned. "Morning, Dean," he said, reaching out and pushing the water glass closer to him.

"Morn-" he cleared his throat. "Morning." He rubbed his crusted eyes and picked up the glass, swallowing down most of it in one go. He set it back down on the table and looked around the library. "Haven't changed anything, have you?"

"No," he replied, looking around fondly. "Never." He picked up a cloth and coughed into it, sounding rough and awful.

"Are you sick?"

"I- no, don't worry," he said after he finished coughing, smiling. Dean frowned and walked up to him, placing a hand on his forehead to check for a fever.

"You look thin. Have you been eating?" Dean squinted at his body, ignoring Henry's sigh.

"Dean, I'm fine. But I would like to talk to you about earlier." Henry said, setting his book down and sipping from his mug of coffee.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong with you." He sat down across from Henry, raising a brow.

Henry frowned, looking at his mug. He sighed softly, closing his eyes for a minute. "My doctor thinks I have... have, uh, lung cancer," he said, tapping his fingers on the table. "He doesn't know for sure yet, the test results don't came back for another few days."

Dean sat there, frozen. No way. No fucking way. "G-grandpa-"

"What happened earlier, Dean?" He interrupted, looking nervous. He didn't want to talk about it, not now at least, Dean realized. But...

He swallowed thickly and looked at his hands. "I left Cas and I guess I just... I dunno," Dean sighed. "Sorry. I just can't do this anymore. I hate  _him_ , so much."

"I know, Dean," his grandpa replied sadly. "I know. And I-..."

"I wanna go," Dean muttered. "I wanna leave this place and go see everyone Sioux."

Henry turned to look at him, then at his book, then him. "I'll go with you. We can both head up to Sioux and stay with them for a while."

"Honestly, grandpa?" Dean hesitated, wondering if he should even say this spur of the moment thought - like the rest of them. Or maybe... maybe it wasn't entirely spur of the moment. "I wanna live there again."

Henry stayed silent, almost painfully, staring at a row of books thoughtfully. "I miss them too, Dean," he said slowly, eventually. "I miss them a lot. But you-... But... You know what? Nevermind." Henry shook his head. "We should go back up there."

"You don't have to leave, grandpa," Dean said, reaching out and hesitantly touching his grandpa's arm. "I can go alone and... I dunno."

"If you leave, Dean, then I have no one here. I'm going with you." Henry patted his hand. "You should talk to Pam. See what she says." He stood, coughing harshly into the back of his hand. "I have to pee."

Dean snorted on a laugh, smirking at his grandpa's eye roll. "Have fun sitting there for the next month."

"Don't you sass me, boy," Henry called over his shoulder. "Just wait 'til you're old. You'll be going to pee every two minutes."

"Never!" He said loudly, listening to the quiet huff of laughter that came in reply. Dean sighed and looked around, deciding to call Pamela and ask about how she felt, thought and anything else.

***

He felt a little better after his call with Pamela. She'd given him advice and told him to follow his heart. Told him that if he felt better coming to Sioux Falls, then he should. It still didn't help that he felt absolutely worthless sitting here and cradling his phone in his hands. He hadn't been able to tell her how much he'd fucked up his relationship with Cas, but he felt like she knew it in a way anyways.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes, dialing Charlie and holding the phone to his ear, looking around the library and sighing. "Sup, Dean?" Charlie asked, sounding distracted.

"Hey," he muttered.

"What's up? You don't sound good," Charlie said, sounding concerned. "Did something happen?"

"Kind of," he laughed, sharp and hollow. "I left Cas. And, uh... I think I'm going to leave Kansas."

"What? Where the hell did this come from?"

"I have nothing much here, Charles," he said. "The only people I care about are you and grandpa, and he's sick. Cas is..."

"Is what?"

"I can't count him in this," he muttered. "I can't. Or I'll never leave. And I have to leave. I can't stay here."

"Is it your dad?" Charlie asked softly. "Is he still hurting you?"

"Charlie, he beat the shit out of me in the last few days," he snorted. "Why do you think I haven't been at work?"

"Shit," Charlie replied. "Dammit, Dean! Why didn't you tell me? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean picked at the bottom of his shirt. "Is Gordon mad?"

"He's always mad when someone calls in sick."

"I do it a lot though. You think he's gonna fire me?"

"No. You're his best mechanic," Charlie said firmly. "He'll sink without you."

"That's not true. I'm just a worthless piece of shit."

"Don't say that. Don't. You're not worthless, Dean, or a piece of shit." Charlie said.

"I'm fucking worthless. And hopeless too. I can't do shit for the life of me."

"Stop that! It's not true!" Charlie sounded angry. "Stop it. You're amazing, Dean, and you deserve so much more than what you get. You better start believing that or I'm going to come over there and make you."

"You don't even know where I am," he said, huffing.

"With your grandpa, right? I figured you'd be there instead of with that bastard."

"... Damn," he muttered.

"Can I come over anyways, Dean? I wanna see you."

"Yeah, sure. I'll tell the old man."

"I'm not old," Henry shouted hoarsely from the other room.

"Stop listening in, you old fart," he shouted back, pulling the phone away from his mouth.

"Be nice," Charlie said. "He's letting you stay with him."

"It's 'cause I'm hopeless on my own and he feels bad."

"Dean," Charlie growled. "Stop it, okay? I'm coming over."

"I'll see you," he muttered, hanging up and dropping his head to the table. Charlie was gonna punch him in the arm and tell him he was stupid, but then she'd apologize and hug him and tell him he was silly for thinking the way he did. Just like always. It made him feel better but it was always only for a short while.

Dean lifted his head and picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts before coming to a stop at one. Dean hadn't talked to him in a while, maybe it would be good to speak with him. He bit his lip, wondering if he should even bother. His finger slipped and clicked the call button, which made him wince.

"Hello?" He heard as he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello? Dean?"

"Heya, Sammy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: //**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, unread, the usual - forgive me~ Enjoy! <3

Dean clicked the dial button and held the phone up to his ear, chewing on his lip as he waited for Cas to pick up. It was currently nine in the morning, and he'd slept barely two hours last night. His head ached and his eyes burned, his body silently begging him to lay down and sleep.

The call went to voicemail, Cas's familiar voice bursting from the speakers, soothing Dean in ways it shouldn't have. He sighed and rubbed one eye, listening for the beep to signal he could begin speaking.

"Hey, Cas, uh... I really need to talk to you. Can you please meet me at Sweet Tooth around two today? Uh, thanks. Bye." Dean hung up and tossed his phone onto his pillow, letting himself fall back and bounce on his bed.

He winced as it hurt his head further, and stretched lazily, yawning. He desperately wanted to curl up under his sheets and sleep for the rest of his life but he didn't get to do that. He forced himself to his feet and padded out of his room, heading for the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee.

Henry sat at the table, reading the book from yesterday and sipping from a mug. He glanced at him as he entered and offered a warm smile. "Morning, Dean," he said.

"Morning," he muttered in reply, picking up a glass and filling it to the top with coffee. He gulped it down and sighed, refilling it and grabbing two Aspirin pills. He swallowed them down and joined his grandpa at the table, rubbing his temples.

"Did you sleep?" Henry asked, closing his book and setting it to the side.

"Yep," Dean sipped from his cup, refusing to look at his grandpa's face.

"Hmm," Henry huffed. "And I was born yesterday."

"Really? I had no idea." Dean said, smiling against the lip of his mug as Henry chuckled.

"Shut your mouth," he said, setting his cup down and sighing.

"Hey, uh, can I borrow your car?" Dean asked hesitantly, glancing up at Henry.

"Sure. Where are you going?" Henry stood and shuffled over to the coffee machine with his cup, refilling it and adding sugar and coffee creamer.

"Clean the house out and get the rest of my things."

"I see," Henry sat down in front of him again, making a thoughtful noise. "When we leave, will you continue paying for the house?"

"No," Dean shrugged. "It was never on my name so it's not going to be my problem anymore. I just paid the bills because I didn't want to live on the streets."

"Okay," Henry nodded. "Okay. I'm going to nap. The keys are in the garage with the Toyota."

"Thanks, grandpa," Dean said, watching him wave him off and disappear around the corner. Henry seemed worse today than yesterday, and he felt bad for leaving him alone, but he needed to do this today. Tomorrow, he'd hopefully spend the day with him.

Dean finished his coffee and washed his cup quickly, drying it and putting it away. He left the room and changed into some outdoor appropriate clothing, deciding not to shower because he was going to get dirty in a little bit anyways.

Dean entered the garage and stared around at the covered vehicles, catching different colors from beneath the plain sheets over the cars. He paused when he saw one, eyeing it suspiciously and unable to place why it looked so familiar.

He shrugged it off and went to the Toyota Matrix. He opened the car and found the keys hanging from the ignition,  and shrugged to himself. He climbed in and turned the car on, using the little clicker to open the garage door as he drove towards it. He turned into the gravel driveway and shut the door as he left and went towards the road.

He quickly managed to navigate past the trees and cement walls blocking the area, and drove towards the main road that would take him back his house. He drove for a long while, getting stuck in morning traffic more than once.

Dean finally managed to reach his house and carefully parked the car on the curb, desperately hoping no one would try and do something to it. He turned it off and exited, stuffing the keys into his pocket with his phone.

He jogged up to the door and pulled his keys out, unlocking the door as quietly as he could and entering the house. He shut the door and looked around, finding nothing wrong. He heard the television playing loudly and poked his head around the wall, letting out a relieved sigh when he saw his dad passed out in front of it, his snores barely heard above the racket from the television.

Dean crept up the stairs and into his room, looking around at the few objects and sighing. He had a suitcase somewhere that he could use for his clothes, and probably his shoes considering he had only one other pair besides the ones he was currently wearing.

Dean quickly went to work stripping his bed of sheets and cleaning up his room, packing his clothes and the rest of his items in the old suitcases he found down the hall. He swept the floor and quickly wiped down the baseboards and walls, taking away the dusty look they previously had.

His room looked bigger without the dust and his items in the random places he'd put them. It looked nice. All it needed was a fresh coat of paint, maybe some plaster here and there, and it would be good as new.

Oh well.

Dean turned and grimaced as he felt his body protest. He picked up the suitcases anyways and quietly walked out of the room and down the stairs, heading for the door. He toed his shoes off, pushing them close to the door. He set the suitcases by the door and draped his jacket over one, then opened the door, glancing at the car and sighing with relief when he realized it was still there and fine.

He turned and closed the door, heading for the kitchen and cleaning out any old food before taking the recycling and trash out. He wiped down the tables in the kitchen and everywhere but the room his dad was sleeping in.

There were only a few dishes in the kitchen, so it wasn't like he needed to pack those up. He could just leave them for his dad to use until he no doubt got kicked out. He felt a little bad for doing this to him but he knew he had to stay strong and not give in. He couldn't stay, nor could he afford to pay for the bills and his dad's alcohol addiction anymore.

Dean looked at the time and groaned, realizing he didn't have enough time to go to his grandpa's and change. But... he looked at the front door and then upstairs. Good as any. Dean took a pair of pants and boxers and a shirt from one of the suitcases and crept up the stairs.

He stripped in the bathroom and showered quickly, scrubbing himself of dirt and sweat and anything else that had gotten on him. He stepped out and dried off, quickly hopping into his clothes and taking his wallet, phone, and both keys from his old pants.

Dean bundled up his clothes and left the room, heading downstairs and stuffing them in the suitcase, deciding he could wash them later, along with anything they rubbed off on. He took out a pair of socks and closed the case, pulling them on. He debated on heading downstairs to the basement to check if he needed to get anything from there then looked at the time and realized he seriously had to leave.

He could do that next time he came back. Dean pulled his jacket and shoes on and opened the door, picking up his cases and setting them on the porch. He locked and shut the door, making sure it was secure before picking up the suitcases and slowly walking down to the car. He opened the trunk and placed the suitcases inside, shutting it and getting in the car.

Dean groaned as he relaxed in his seat, feeling his body ache. He reluctantly straightened and turned the car on, changing gears and heading towards the cafe.

He pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, turning the car off and exiting. He headed into the cafe slowly, trying not to limp as his leg protested with pain. Fucking- ugh, fuck everything.

Dean glanced around and noticed Cas sitting at a far table, cradling a cup in his hands. There wasn't another across from him so Dean decided to get something for himself. Just to stall, of course. He got a French Vanilla Coffee and then headed over to Cas, aware of his eyes on him.

He removed his jacket, setting it on the back of the chair and sat down. "Hey," he muttered, turning the paper cup in circles with his fingers.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said softly, sounding both warm and cool. He was probably mad Dean had left the way he had. But he hadn't texted him, or called. His fault. Maybe.

Dean sipped his coffee, slouching in his seat and feeling the lack of sleep and exhaustion from cleaning hit him. He blinked his eyes and looked out the window, trying not to fidget as Cas stared at him.

He wondered what he should say. Should he tell Cas he was leaving? But he couldn't, not yet. Should he say something about leaving him the way he had? No, he couldn't speak about it. He was pathetic, and disgusting; Cas hadn't even cared when he'd left.

Dean thought back to their very first meeting, and the calm way in which Cas had handled his panic. He pressed his lips together tightly and sighed, sitting up and barely holding in a yawn, his eyes watering as he did. He blinked them and looked at Cas, nearly looking away again when they locked eyes.

"His name was Alastair," he said quietly, gaze darting around and making sure no one was near them. "I was sixteen, almost seventeen, and he treated me like I was the most important person in the world."

"Dean-"

"Please just listen, Cas," he swallowed. "He, uh, he was really nice - at first. He was attentive and caring, he liked to buy me gifts. And he'd always shower me with praises, even when I didn't deserve them. He made me feel safe and loved and it was so nice to feel that way with a stranger, someone who wasn't family."

Dean chuckled, reaching up and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Then there was this time when he came home from work angry, and called me over. Of course, I went. We were having dinner and I accidentally dropped a plate when I was cleaning up. He, uh, he lost it, I guess."

"Dean, please-"

"Cas." He looked up, noticing the sad expression on Cas's face. The man cleared his throat and looked way.

"Continue," he muttered, picking up his cup and sipping from it.

"He punched me. Then apologized and apologized and sad he'd never do it again. Of course, I didn't believe him, but me being the fucking idiot I am, forgave him and tried to be hopeful that he really wouldn't do it again." Dean smirked. "After that, it became a regular thing. He'd get angry at something, me or work or I don't know, and he'd come and hit me or he'd threaten to cut me with a knife."

"Oh, Dean," Cas reached across the table and gripped his arm, eyes widening with horror as he connected the dots.

Dean's smirk grew larger. "I was out with my friend, Aaron, this one time and he caught us. Aaron used to like me so he'd always get in my space and flirt like hell. He dragged me to his house and tied me up, ranting some shit about cheating and sluts and I dunno. I don't remember. Anyways, he cut me across the groin, telling me that if I ever did that again, he'd cut my dick off instead of being 'lenient' in his punishment like he just was."

"Fuck," Cas cursed, breathing deep and harsh. "I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill him. I will, Dean, just say the word and I'll-"

"Cas! Don't say that," Dean licked his lips, looking around again, nervous. "Please. I know you mean well but... you can't just do that."

"I could, Dean," Cas clenched his jaw tightly then sighed and breathed deeply. "I'm sorry. But he scarred you and he hurt you bad, Dean; mentally and physically and... I can't let that go."

"You're going to have to," Dean muttered. "I refuse to let you do that. I refuse."

Cas didn't reply, but he pulled away and rubbed his face, sighing once more. They sat there quietly, both thinking, and then Cas spoke.

"My brother made the Death Angels when he was thirteen. It was a stupid little school playground club thing that soon grew into something dangerous and terrifying. They started talking about killing people and guns and bikes and it grew into this shitty little gang. They did some weird shit, I don't know what exactly, and got noticed by a biker gang called the Highway Devils or something."

Dean blinked, watching Cas's face become an expressionless mask as he spoke. "The leader took an interest in Lucifer and decided that he was worthy of taking over the gang when he died. They merged together and it became a messed up situation when some rival gang killed the leader. Lucifer took over, killing a few stray men that stood against him.

"The Death Angels are a mix of some stupid middle school idiots and an even bigger group of idiotic bikers," Cas smiled. "As I said before, Lucifer lured me into joining his gang with the promise of the car. But he just threw that in after I agreed to be in it, just to sweeten the deal."

"Why would you agree to be part of his gang?" Dean couldn't help but ask.

"I enjoyed the thought of riding on a motorcycle daily. I never thought about the little things though. Like where would we sleep. What would we do."

"What did you do?"

"We robbed people," Cas said easily, eyes sharp as he stared at Dean. "We robbed and we killed. We took what we wanted when we wanted it. It was a good and fun life, Dean, but it was an empty life. I wanted more. So I talked to Lucifer and I decided to finish my education and become an accountant at my father's law firm."

"Have... have you killed anyone?" Dean whispered, leaning in closer unconsciously.

Cas hummed and leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Many people. Both innocent and guilty. Why?"

"N-no reason."

"Hmm." Cas pressed his lips together, glancing down at his watch. "I should go. I have to get back to work. Would you meet me at my house on Friday? Please, Dean."

He swallowed, still trying to process this information. Cas killed people. Cas was a murderer. His daddy was a murderer. Holy Christ. "Okay," he whispered, feeling some fear course through him.

Cas stood and picked up his coffee and jacket, stepping close to Dean. He leaned down and pressed a long, sweet kiss to the crown of his head, muttering softly, "I'll see you soon, sweet boy."

Dean whimpered and turned, watching him walk away and out the door calmly. He slumped in his chair, rubbing his eyes and groaning to himself. There was no way in hell Cas was letting him go after telling him that.

He was screwed. So screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: // ?? //**


End file.
